USA > Ohio > Richland County > History of Richland County, Ohio, from 1808 to 1908, Vol. I > Part 25
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OLD BLOCKHOUSE
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improvements, good health will probably have been taken into consideration as an important factor in the revised edition of the higher life.
Query-How will the woman of the future occupy her time?
The other addresses on the programme were as follows: "A Half Cen- tury Ago," by Peter Bissman ; "Beautiful Ohio," by W. S. Cappeller ;" "This Day in Future History," the Rev. Father Schreiber; "American History," Superintendent C. L. Van Cleve; "Local History," the Hon. C. E. McBride.
The Hon. J. F. Laning and the Hon. E. O. Randall had expected to be, able to be present at the dedication and were on the programme to deliver addresses, but later found that it would be impossible to come and notified the secretary to that effect.
Eloquent tribute to the soldiers of the War of 1812 was paid by the Rev. Father Mulhane, of Mount Vernon, in his address, in which humor and pathos were exquisitely blended. It was a triumph of oratory and the speaker received abundant appreciation.
The following is the address delivered by M. B. Bushnell :
THE OLD BLOCKHOUSE.
Several questions have been very properly asked in regard to the block- house that we, as a historical society and citizens of Ohio, are this day rededi- cating. How do we know that the logs are a part of the original building; where have they been located, and who, in chief, should have the honor or credit of their so perfect preservation? It is beyond dispute that General James Hedges was the pioneer surveyor in Richland county. He entered a large tract of land in Madison township, including the east and south portions of Mansfield, Ohio.
General Hedges was a man of quiet demeanor, yet was a strong and fearless leader in the community of his home and was well known throughout Ohio; was a friend of the early pioneers, and their honored families well knew that by pushing a little faster on the trail through the dense primeval forest they would be welcome at the humble cabin home of James Hedges. Thus early he became acquainted with each and all families as they entered the new country-our beloved Richland county-and the queen city, its capital, on the Rockyfork of the Mohican.
Thus this early association with this class of sturdy families, a God prepared class of people, seeking a new home in an exposed northern lati- tude-not in particular the climate-but the wild men of the forest, the blood-thirsty Indians who had espoused the British cause. What was naturally our best source of defense? Was it not to build a fort? The only material at hand was wood, and that was in abundance. The best of trees were cut and prepared after a plan, generally adopted by the leaders in the various ex- posed districts of the country. The structure, when built, was called a block- house.
General Hedges was enthusiastically interested in this noble work. There were a number of these blockhouses built in central-northern Ohio settle- ments. The inhabitants, without regard to race, color or nationality, when in case of alarm, fearing an Indian disturbance, were instructed to at once flee
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to the blockhouse for protection and remain there until quiet was reported by some God prepared angel like John Chapman, better known as "Johnny Appleseed."
Many of these pioneer forts or blockhouses later became the home of certain families, but the house we are this day dedicating was destined to be used for other historical duties-that of Richland county's first courthouse for three years, the first jail or prison and the first schoolhouse. With this early historical escutcheon engraved on every sacred log, as it were, of this time honored, sacred building, it is destined to be emblazoned on the pages of archaeological and historical society publications.
General Hedges said by his action this blockhouse must be preserved. It was taken down and moved to lot No. 168, East Second street; this lot is 60x180 feet, extending through to Virgin alley. The lot was sold to John Carson, a man with one leg, a shingle maker. Mr. Hedges, before disposing of the lot, had the blockhouse well sheeted with what is known as barn siding. I well remember when a little boy, with my honored father, we were at the Carson home when Mr. Carson stated that when General Hedges requested at various times the importance of properly protecting the old fort, Mr. Carson would rub the logs with his hands, calling it sacred timber.
The Mansfield Historical Society have had this knowledge at heart for years. We now invite you, our fellow citizens, to come out in the open and fully enter into the joy of the coming centennial of Mansfield, in June, 1908. We hope the membership of our society will be beautified by your signature.
You certainly understand the joy of my heart when I say that General James Hedges has fully earned the high honor and praise as the caretaker of our blockhouse.
Miss Minnie Martin sang a patriotic solo which was greatly appreciated.
"Half a Century Ago" was the subject of a short but very interesting address by Peter Bissman, who told of conditions in his boyhood down in Mifflin township. The reminiscences were thoroughly enjoyed.
Postmaster Cappeller read a poem, entitled "Beautiful Ohio," and the Rev. Father F. A. Schreiber, pastor of St. Peter's Catholic church. delivered an address on "This Day in Future History." Father Schreiber is an enthusiastic lover of history, and particularly of local history. He told of the importance of commemorating the deeds of the fathers and preserving the old landmarks.
"Local History" was the subject of an excellent address by the Hon. Curtis E. McBride, who took up various things in connection with Richland county history.
Professor C. L. Van Cleve, superintendent of the Mansfield public schools, was on the program for an address on "American History," but owing to the lateness of the hour he made only a few remarks, which, however, were to the point.
Miss Carroll sang the "Star Spangled Banner," the parochial school children and the audience joining in the chorus.
The doxology was sung by the entire audience and the benediction was
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pronounced by the Rev. Father Mulhane, thus bringing to a close the exercises of the day.
RICHLAND COUNTY'S PUBLIC MONUMENTS
Monuments are erected to remind the present and coming generations of the life of some person or of some event or epoch of history. The soldiers' monument at the west side of Central Park, Mansfield, was given to the city by the late Hon. M. D. Harter, in honor of the soldiers of Richland county and as a tribute to their memory. It stands on the west side of the public square, and was unveiled with appropriate ceremony on Tuesday, November 10, 1881. Military and civic societies had places in the parade, and the late Colonel T. T. Dill was chief marshal. The late Colonel B. Burns was presi- dent of the day, who, after a brief address, introduced Mr. Harter, the donor of the monument, who was received with hearty applause by the assembled thousands and delivered his presentation address, appropriate and eloquent both in matter and in style. At the close of his address Mr. Harter formally presented the monument to the patriotic citizens of Richland county. It was then unveiled and viewed with admiration by the people present.
Judge Dirlam in an appropriate speech accepted the monument in behalf of the people. The Rev. J. S. Broadwell, then pastor of the Methodist Epis- copal church, Mansfield, followed with an address full of touching events and eloquent passages. The monument faces to the west, as the march of civilization has ever been westward.
The monument is of granite, surmounted by a bronze statue of a soldier, of heroic size, standing at parade rest upon a granite pedestal five feet square and eight feet high, of beautiful design and fine workmanship. The monument is an ornament to the park and an enduring memorial of the valor and services of Richland county's soldiers, and it is an appropriate and substantial manifestation of the generosity and patriotism of Mr. Harter, whose eventful career is shown in the business, social and religious life of this generation. The gift of this monument is appreciated by civilians and soldiers, each class holding Mr. Harter in grateful remembrance.
The monument was designed by Ben Pitman, at that time president of the Academy of Arts at Cincinnati, and the work was manufactured and erected by E. M. Wolff & Co., of Mansfield.
On the east side of the monument there is a bronze tablet with the following inscription :
The Revolution.
The War of 1812.
The Mexican War.
The Great Rebellion.
On the west side there is a similar tablet with this inscription :
"To the memory of Richland county's honored dead, who lost their lives fighting the battles of their country on land and sea."
The John Chapman monument in what is known as Middle Park, of the Sherman-Heineman Park, is the only publie monument erected to a private
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individual in Richland county. It was unveiled November 8, 1900, under the auspices of the Richland County Historical Society.
Lydia Maria Child, in a poem on Johnny Appleseed, wrote:
"Weary travelers, journeying west, In the shade of his trees find pleasant rest. And often they start with glad surprise At the rosy fruit that around them lies.
"And if they inquire whence came such trees, Where not a bough once swayed in the breeze, The reply still comes, as they travel on,
These seeds were planted by 'Appleseed John.'"
On the Fourth of July, 1881, the Vasbinder fountain was unveiled in Central Park. President Garfield had been shot by Guiteau the day before and the sad event had cast a shadow of gloom over Mansfield, causing the Fourth to be passed in a very quiet and orderly way. A large number of people, however, assembled in the park to witness the dedicatory ceremonies. The late Hon. James Purdy was president of the day, and Dr. William Bushnell, Levi Zimmerman, John Wiler and others were vice presidents. Captain A. C. Cummins was grand marshal. The Hon. Henry C. Hedges, in a well-worded address, presented the fountain to the city on the part of the donors. Colonel B. Burns, in an appropriate speech, accepted the gift on the part of the city.
Although this fountain is seen daily by our people a brief description may not be out of place. The fountain proper above the water line is hex- agonal and has a well-designed column upon each corner. In the center above this is a round standard supporting a large iron basin, which is artis- tically enriched with high-class carving, and in the center and above is a group of statuary-three allegorical figures, one representing the Horn of Plenty, another representing Rebecca at the well, and the third is a figure beautifully draped, holding a wreath of flowers in her hand. Above this group is a smaller basin, surmounting which there is a statue, from which a number of water jets are thrown in semi-circular streams into the basins below. The beauty of the fountain has been marred by painting. The material is bronze, and, if painted at all, it should be of a plain bronze color. The fountain was designed by J. L. Mott & Co., of New York city, and the work was done by E. M. Wolff, of Mansfield.
David and Jane Vasbinder, brother and sister, the generous donors of the fountain, were old residents of Richland county, and this gift to the city was made in the evening time of their lives.
A monument has recently been erected in South Park, Mansfield, to the One Hundred and Twentieth Regiment, O. V. I. It was unveiled with appro- priate ceremony on Saturday, August 22, 1908.
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RICHLAND COUNTY POETS.
Richland county can point with pride to her quota in the galaxy of Ohio poets. "The poet is born, not made," and "the poet alone sees nature," were favorite sayings among the ancients. From his very infancy the beauties and the melodies of the earth impress themselves divinely on the soul of the true poet. To him the heavens and the earth seem full of spirituality, beauty and melody, and his instinct indulges in musings, reveries and day dreamings, and afterward, when his thoughts are put into verse, they come forth with poetic aroma or crystallized in imperishable luster. It is the province of poetry to present higher and more spiritual ideals of life, and in this our Richland county poets are entitled to praise and honor.
It has been said that Ohio is not rich in poetry. No new country is; and Ohio is new, compared with old New England. The early settlers here had a forest country to clear and wars to fight-events which furnish materials only after the mellowing influences of time have long hung over their history. The pioneers, doubtless had songs, but they were not preserved even in traditions.
The first poem printed in Ohio, so far as is known, was an historical one written by Return Jonathan Meigs, and read at a Fourth of July celebra- tion at Marietta in 1787. It began :
"Enough of tributary praise is paid, To virtue living or to merit dead. To happier themes, the rural muse invites, To calmest pleasures, and serene delights."
The poem was descriptive of the Ohio valley as it then appeared and as it was destined to become. In what seems like prophetic vision the poet further wrote :
"See the spires of Marietta rise. And domes and temples swell into the skies."
In 1860 there were about forty recognized poets in Ohio, the majority of whom were to the manor born. They might be divided into two classes-those who followed literature or newspaper work as a profession, and those who, although engaged in other vocations, occasionally wooed the muse.
The poems of the poets of Ohio may not equal in pretentious styles the poetry of the East, yet in noble aspirations, in expressive appreciations of natural beauty, in depicting and cultvating domestic affections and in breathing a spirit of morality and religion, the writings of our Ohio authors compare favorably with those of any other country in the world. Poetry, in its highest perfection, is thought, feeling, imagery and music, expressed in the most appropriate language. Poetry is the greatest of the fine arts and is closely allied to the rest of them. In some poems thought predominates, as in Pope's "Essay on Man ;" in others, feeling is expressed, as in Wolfe's "Burial of Sir John Moore;" in others, imagery is expressed, as in Moore's "Lalla Rookh." It would be a pleasure to write of many Ohio poets did space admit
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of such mention. To come to our own county, the first to receive attention, chronologically, is Andrew Coffinberry, commonly called Count Coffinberry, who was a pioneer lawyer and who sometimes courted the muse. Among his poetical productions was an epic poem called "Forest Rangers," that struck the popular current at that time.
Salathial Coffinberry was also a Mansfield poet and tale writer. He was afterward governor of Michigan.
The Rev. James B. Walker, for many years pastor of the Congregational church of Mansfield, was a poet and writer of wide reputation. His "Angel Whispers" and other poems gave him a high place among the poets of America.
Mrs. Lovezila Patterson, daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. Solomon Gladden, of Monroe township, contributed to the Mansfield press both in prose and poetry back in the fifties. She gave her place of residence as Hazel Dell, by which name the schoolhouse near the home where she was reared is still called.
Rosella Rice was born, reared and lived the greater part of her life near Perrysville, which was formerly a part of Richland county. She was a born poet and nursed her strange, wild fancies amid the equally wild hills and glens and rocky caves which she haunted with a devotion that amounted to a life passion. Meeting with but few associates who could appreciate the depth of her passion for such communings, her spirit was wont to retire within her- self except when it was called forth by the presence of the sylvan gods among whom she worshiped.
Coming but little in contact with the world at large, she usually built upon ideal models. She contributed to Arthur's Home Magazine, Philadel- phia, and also to a number of the leading newspapers of Ohio. She is now deceased.
Mrs. Nancy Coulter Eddy, of Perrysville, formerly lived in Washington township, this county. Her contributions to the county papers were quite popular, but after her marriage she ceased to dally with the muse.
Ida Eckert, formerly of Perry township, this county, achieved consid- erable notoriety as a poet and published a small volume of poems called "Day Dreams."
Miss Sade E. Baughman is a writer of both prose and poetry, but never sought to have her writings published in book form. Her poetical writings are of the inspirational kind, but are tempered and polished by years of newspaper work. Miss Baughman is the youngest child of Jacob and Eliza- beth (Cunningham) Baughman, and her grand parents were among the very first settlers of the county. She is a sister of A. J. Baughman, the writer of this history, and assisted in the preparation of the work.
THE POWER OF SONG.
The ground was covered with the first snow of winter; the air was dull and humid, and overhead hung a murky sky, as a newspaper worker was returning from one of the several additions that make the city plat of Mans-
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field cover two thousand acres. It was a chilly, cheerless day, and he was hurrying along anxious to get back to the warmth of the Shield office, and later to his home.
Crossing from one street to another he noticed a small dwelling house with a summer kitchen annex. The building is but little more than a shanty, and that is why it struck his attention, for Mansfield is noted for its handsome, comfortable looking homes, even among the poorest class of its people. The building and its surroundings indicated that poverty dwelt within that home. And while the thought was passing that perhaps even want was there, the words "Home, Sweet Home," were wafted upon the snow-flecked air in a sweet melody of song. Upon looking around a man was seen chopping wood in the side yard of the little house. The pile of wood was small and was partly buried in the snow. The man was dressed in the garb of a laborer, and as he plied his axe he sang in a rich, sympathetic tone :
"'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home, home, sweet, sweet home;
There's no place like home-there's no place like home."
The song seemingly came to rebuke thoughts that the humble little home must necessarily be an unhappy one. As he stopped and listened to the song the receding sun cast rays of light around the dwelling as an aerifying benediction, in accord with the song. How impressible is man! How the song seemed to change the scene! The poverty aspect disappeared and one of gladsome happiness and home-like comfort took its place. Showing that no matter how humble one's surroundings may be, if love and contentment dwell therein, there is no place like home. Home joys to some may be like flowers hidden in a fog, or like winter plants covered with snow, yet love can dispel the fog and melt the snow if it dwells in the heart. People may be weary, weary from overwork or overwaiting, and hope may at times even seem to be a heavy burden, but in that beautiful home to come all can unito in singing "Home, Sweet Home."
It is easy to trace through the history of civilization the subtle force of popular melodies representing the thoughts and emotions that have prevailed from time to time and helped to share the course of events and the destinies of nations. All countries have their favorite and characteristic songs, corro- sponding to the temperament and tendency of their respective peoples. But John Howard Payne's "Home, Sweet Home" is for all nations and for all ages, and goes to the human heart wherever love and home are known. There is something divine in music, and that is why birds of prey never sing. and infidelity has no song.
It is told that upon one occasion in Georgia during the Civil War, the Union and Confederate armies, confronting each other, rested on their arms for the night. A battle was innninent on the morrow. At early evening the
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Federal bands played the "The Star-Spangled Banner," which evoked cheers from the Union troops. While their cheers were echoing in the distance, the Confederate bands began to play the sprightly air of "Dixie," which was welcomed with vigorous rebel yells. Following this the bands of the contend- ing armies alternately played "Hail, Columbia," "Maryland, My Maryland," "Yankee Doodle" and the "Bonnie Blue Flag." A few moments of im- pressive silence followed this friendly contest of war tunes, and then it is written that "Calm on the listening ear of night" came the soft, sweet strains of "Home, Sweet Home" from one of the rebel bands. The exquisite senti- ment and tenderness of the song vividly recalled to the minds of the soldiers the homes they had left in the North and in the South, and the bands of the Union army joined in the music of the universal song. For the moment sectional lines were forgotten and the passions of war were softened by the air and the words of the world's great refrain :
"Home, home, sweet, sweet home, There's no place like home-there's no place like home."
And the voices of the soldiers of the two armies united in singing that deathless song, "Home, Sweet Home."
LOVE AFFAIRS.
The love affairs of a community may be as interesting to some readers as tales of murder are to others.
The incidents of the following romance, founded on facts, are of the Civil War period.
Thomas Ream and Katharine Rolfe were schoolmates in the ante-bellum days and their parents were neighbors and owned farms in one of the most noted townships in Richland county. The children were playmates and friends from their infancy. Their confidence and attachment for each other showed the beauty of that faith and love that oftentimes sets two hearts voyaging together on the wondrous sea of the future.
Thomas was born in 1840 and Katharine a few years later. A school incident occurred in the winter of 1850 that was as amusing to the pupils as it was embarrassing to Thomas and Katharine. Thomas had written Kath- arine a note, which was against the rules of the school, and, having been intercepted by the teacher, was read aloud, as follows:
Dear Kate: I take my pen in hand to inform you that I slipped a big red apple in your dinner basket, and when you eat it please think of me.
The pizen vine climbs a holler stump, And you are as sweet as a sugar lump. Your lover, TOM.
The pupils laughed when this was read, which the teacher seemed to think was the proper thing for them to do. Kate cried and Tom looked defiant,
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but the incident only drew them closer in the bonds of affection and increased their attachment for each other.
Those were the good old school days of two generations agone, when children went to school to study and to learn, and carried corn pone and spare ribs for noonday lunch. There were occasional diversions of sitting on the dunceblock for disregarding thumb-papers or for other acts of omission or commission.
"Oh, were you ne'er a school boy, And did you never train And felt that welting on the back You hope ne'er to feel again."
Thomas was a bright, capable boy, and his parents intended him for one of the learned professions. But how differently things turn out sometimes from what had been intended-how people are molded and changed by cir- cumstances and events.
The memorable spring of 1861 ushered in the great War of the Rebellion just as Thomas was preparing to enter an Eastern college. The pariotic blood of a revolutionary ancestor flowed warmly through Thomas' veins, and he promptly responded to his country's call for troops to defend its flag. That war is long since a thing of the past, and since its close men of the North and of the South have marched together against a common foe.
Thomas was one of the first to enlist, and a few days' later had marching orders to the front, but first he must bid Katharine goodbye, and felt as fhough he could not leave until he first had an open avowal of the love he knew she bore him. He called at the house, but was told that Katharine had gone down the graveled walk toward the stream. He followed and found her sitting upon the bank looking pensively over the waters of the Clearfork as they rippled over the pebbled bottom and flowed gracefully with a musical murmur between the green banks.
There was a sadness in the greeting of these young people, for each felt that that was their last meeting-at least for years-perhaps forever. They talked at first upon indifferent topics, each dreading to mention the subject of the war, and as he sat and watched her lovely face in the fading sunlight he almost regretted that he had placed himself in a position that forced him to leave her. The sunset faded out and the moon threw the shadows of the trees at their feet, and a spell of peace seemed to hover over the earth, making them almost forgetful of the war and the uncertainties of the future.
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