The History of Wyandot County, Ohio, containing a history of the county, its townships, towns general and local statistics, military record, portraits of early settlers and prominent men etc, Part 59

Author:
Publication date: 1884
Publisher: Chicago, Leggett, Conaway
Number of Pages: 1072

USA > Ohio > Wyandot County > The History of Wyandot County, Ohio, containing a history of the county, its townships, towns general and local statistics, military record, portraits of early settlers and prominent men etc > Part 59

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his hand. Sam was now the victor and radiant with triumph. The mur- derer must strip and submit to a search under the uplifted corn-cutter, which Sam now flourished over his head. To this demand, the murderer quietly submitted, when about 250 pounds of Allen Sane tumbled out of the disguise. By this time, Red Thread, who was playing corpse on the floor, got up and made for the long-necked bottle, that served as a kind of free lunch during preparations for this little drama which was " to take in, do up, and demolish the Constable." In Sam, however, they had caught a tartar. He had demonstrated that there was no lacking of pluck, even in a Constable; and if it hadn't been for the happy exchange, in which a corn- cob took the place of Sam's revolver, there might have been a very funny dead man with a very solemn funeral.

Allen was graceful enough to acknowledge that he was disappointed, and that he felt it his duty to set it up for the boys whenever Sam should order it.

You see, gentle reader, it was all made up to "scare Sam out of his boots," because Sam, when a little full, would sometimes boast of his courage, and how he brought this and that fellow to time when disposed to be a little ugly. Allen Sane, to have some fun and to "take the conceit out of Sam," submitted to the decorative art and was patched up to repre- sent a formidable specimen of the plug-ugly. He induced Red Thread to play the part of a pleasant corpse while the fun was going on, and also called in a number of the boys to witness Sam's terror and complete over- throw when he should fall into the trap. The hilarious Sane just doubled

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up with laughter in assuring the boys that he would frighten the little devil so he couldn't wink for a month. But how transitory are all the blissful dreams of life. Sam wouldn't scare worth a cent, but, as the sequel shows, came off with flying colors, and Allen never heard the last of that bloody murderer who was captured by one little man, whose only weapon was a corn cob.

[NOTE-Correspondent-Yes, we will have a pleasant sketch of Elliot Long, which will consist of a good deal of turtle soup; but we have about fifteen years of trouble to produce before we arrive at the charm of three.

One of our best sketches is Aleck Little's introduction of George Depler to a belle of Crawfordsville, at one of the grand dances held in that town in early days. At this introduction, George got fighting mad, and threat- ened to annihilate Aleck, but Aleck told him to not disturb his linen, as he had given him a big send-off, for the ladies would now have confidence in his ability.

Another sketch embraces Aleck's experience at the Old Council House, on one rainy afternoon, when it wasn't a good day for his business. ]

THE LITTLE FRENCH DOCTOR.

A new town is usually a nucleus around which gather the curiosities in human life. It is one of earth's savory spots that attract moth as well as genius and enterprise. The Micawbers are there for something to turn up, moving pleasantly among those stimulated by a laudable ambition. Thirty- seven years ago, Upper Sandusky was a new town, and, like all other new towns, its three or four hundred inhabitants was the result of great expec- tation upon the part of a variety of people, including one colored man who still remains with us in the person of Uncle Archy. The professions are always gracefully represented in new towns. Where there is an appearance of law, there is a profusion of lawyers; then come the physician, the un- dertaker and the politician. While Messrs. Mott, McKelly, Sears, Kirby and a singular looking mixture of nature and Blackstone by the name of Wier represented the law, Drs. McConnell, Ayres, Ferris, Watson and Hartz gave their skill and attention to the afflicted. Valentine & DeLong made our coffins, and any teamster for $1 would haul out the dead. We indulged in no parade of hearse and plumage, in a force of spangled pall-bearers and a retinue of hired carriages .* In those days it was an expensive luxury to die. You could go off with a $10 estate, with the quiet and beatific assur- ance that the boys would plant you in handsome style But what a change! To die now almost shatters a fortune, leaving the bereaved friends doubly afflicted. So expensive has this funeral business become that three or four of our old inhabitants utterly refuse to die, adding largely to the gray hairs of their prospective heirs, who have been waiting and watching so many years on the ragged edge of hope and despair. In talking to an old friend lately, he said: "Do you know, Bob, that it costs from $800 to a $1,000 for a fellow to die these days." "So much!" exclaimed the sketcher. " Yes, all of it, and I'll see them d-d first. I would have passed in my

* The first hearse made its appearance in Upper Sandusky some time in the year 1851. It was the enterprise of B. Sulliger, who came after Valentine & DeLong, to make our resurrection outfits. This hearse was fashioned a little after John Cary's chicken wagon, only the sides were closed with a curtain of black muslin, to give it the appearance of a catafalque, as it were. We think death was stripped of a good deal of its gloom after Sulliger launched his hearse. It was hauled by one horse, produced, not unfre- quently, by the party who furnished the corpse, and as a usual thing nothing occurred to mar the harmony of the occasion. For the times, the Sulliger hearse served its purpose well, and reflected upon that fine old quiet gentleman considerable credit; but it would be a sorrowful looking affair in contrast with the elegant and costly, yet tearful, equipages which now bear the remains of loved ones to our beautiful city of the dead.

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checks several years ago, but I really can't afford it. I intend now to meet Gabriel on the threshold and help him blow his horn."

Among the peculiar people of our new town was Hartz, the little French doctor. He was a very small man, so distinctively French in his nature and appearance that he smelt of Paris. He was precise in his dress, and, while eschewing everything American, was studious, even severe, in pre- serving all the customs of his native land; hence an immaculate frilled shirt always bloomed beneath a beaver cap, which he wore winter and sum- mer, and when the weather would permit, an elegant pelisse, upon which connoisseurs of the art had expended their taste and skill. It was very evident that the doctor had seen better days, and that his sojourn in America, if not an experiment, was the result of those social or political upheavals so common in France during the unsettled reign of Louis Philippe. He had a beautiful wife, and a still more beautiful daughter, who gave the most pleasing indications of culture and refinement. In appearance they re- fected the fastidiousness of the husband and father, yet with that delicate shading which lends a charm to the softer sex.

Like other great men, Dr. Hartz had his failing. He would get drunk. Not every day, but every evening, and his favorite place of resort was the Blue Ball Corner. With French enthusiasm he always carried a revolver and a dagger cane, which he never exercised nor threatened to use, yet his impulsive nature was full of dangerous apprehensions. At all events, when the boys played a trick on the Doctor they were mindful of first securing his cane and fire-arms. The Doctor's greatest delight was to get with a small party around a table, drink wine and talk of his beloved France. He would toy with his wine, describing many graceful circles with the glass to give a pleasing embellishment to his conversation, always mingling a flow of good French to get off a supply of bad English. What he could not clearly enunciate by a mixture of both languages he would make impressive, or at least amusing, by a system of pantomine that was irresistible.

One night, when the Doctor was full, and in that high state of inebria- tion where the sorrows and anxieties of earth roll on, and leave the subject in a grateful state of semi-forgetfulness, he was informed that a patient at the point of death needed his attention. True to his professional instinct, although drunk, he manifested a desire to go, and was led to the death bed of a fellow mortal. The boys had a fellow in bed to represent a very sick man, and he was tossing the clothes around with an appearance of agony. Drunk as the Doctor was, he took in the situation, and with his peculiar French dignity, examined the "sufferer" very critically, and with apparent candor. The boys were "tickled to death" at seeing the little Doctor so terribly fooled, and the patient was several times on the brink of bursting into a fit of laughter. The Doctor took no notice of this levity, but ordered a huge mustard plaster. The kind and anxious attendants, however, had no idea of furnishing material for this appliance. When they went into a side room apparently to consult, but in fact to give vent to their pent-up laughter, they heard the shrill cry of "murder" issue from the sick man's room. Thunderstruck they rushed in and behold! The Doctor was on the bed, holding the patient down with one hand, and snapping a lance at him with the other. When pulled off the bed, and asked for an explanation, the Doctor said: "Zee patient is on zee verge of suppuration, and zee bad blood must come out. It's zee worse case of zee dam fool, and phlebotomee in zee fool case is triumph of zee mee-de-sin profesh-ong." By this time, the patient was yelling and waltzing around the room, with his back covered

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with blood, oozing from a dozen punctures made by the Doctor's lance. The sellers were sold, and to keep this intelligence from McCoy, of the Blue Ball, they did not dare to utter a word of complaint against the Doctor for his merciless use of the lance upon their improvised patient. They cau- tioned the Doctor to say nothing about it, and he should have a half dozen of his favorite wine. So after plastering up the back of their patient, they all went down to the Blue Ball and ordered the wine. The Doctor was very convivial, and drank until his little eyes lost their luster. When he started home, 'Lish McCurdy was on hand with his rope, which he tied across the pavement every half square to trip up and throw the Doctor to hear him swear in broken French.

The Doctor furnished a good deal of amusement for the boys, very fre- quently coming out ahead, as he did in the case related.

He was a man of more than ordinary intellect, well skilled in his pro- fession, and would have been successful and prosperous had not his beset- ting infirmity overcome him.

He tried to become a permanent resident by building the wide, pecu- liarly-shaped brick structure, which remained for years on the site now oc- cupied by John H. Junkin, and which he called his Cote de Par-ee. Here he lived with his beautiful wife and daughter, who suffered the mortifica- tion of his drunken debauches, yet murmured not in any sign of outward rebuke. He was always the husband and father and treated with the ten- derest feelings of respect. He was all they had of the better days which filled life with emotions of pleasure, and in him they could still see a soul adorned amid the wreck and sorrows of human frailty.

After a few years' residence here the Doctor as mysteriously disappeared as he rose to the surface-another bubble on the great ocean of life, "a moment white, then lost forever."

THE MAJOR.

We tip our beaver, this week, to Maj. Anthony Bowsher. The old gen- tleman is still living, and in good enough health to not tolerate any foolish- ness, consequently the sketcher will not permit his imagination to make any of its usual flights. The Major is a gentleman who has dealt largely in experience, and has had his share of earth's pleasures and vicissitudes. From early years to comparative old age, he was active and energetic, will- ing to do anything in the line of work or trade. He came to this county from Circleville, Chio, a short time before Jackson was elected President, and had the honor of casting his first vote for that old hero. Thrown upon his own resources when quite young, he had no opportunity to attend school, and his education, so far as it concerned books, was entirely neg- lected. The only part of the alphabet that looked familiar to him was the letter X, which meant Anthony Bowsher when he went bail on a sale note and got stuck.

The Major settled on the plains, south of this city, at a point which still bears his name. He labored hard until he accumulated sufficient means to start a country store, which contained everything you could think of, in- cluding the post office and a bar, where spirits could be revived at three cents a smile. The Major did a good business, and notwithstanding he could neither read nor write nor cipher, he had remarkable success. A good deal of credit was done in those days, and it used to perplex the Major con- siderably to keep run of the things "got on tick." His manner of book-

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keeping was a system of symbols which the Major had reduced to almost a science.

One day old Smith came in "dam mad" and wanted to settle. This anxiety was caused by the Major sending word a few days before, "that if he didn't come in and pay up, he'd whale h-] out of him." Smith, white with rage, was on hand and demanded his account. The Major reached down into an old boot and pulled out a shingle upon which he kept the score of the much agitated Smith. The first charge was a long mark with two prongs, and Smith acknowledged a pitchfork; another attempt at design convinced Smith that he had got a pair of shoes, two drinks and a bottle of paregoric. They were getting along well on settlement until the shingle showed a large, symmetrically-drawn circle, which Major insisted was a cheese. Here Smith's venom bubbled over, and accused the Major of an attempt to swindle him. He never had a cheese in his house. They never ate cheese. His family would starve alongside a cheese factory, so great was their aversion to that article of indigestible food. The Major was highly indignant that any member of the contemptible Smith family would dispute his books, or rather his shingle; and if Smith didn't shut his fly- trap he would lead him out by the eye-brow. By the time a crowd had gathered in to prevent bloodshed, the Major doubled up with laughter. "I've got it," says he. "Why, Smith, it's a grindstone. I forgot to put a hole in it." Of course, Smith recollected the grindstone, and was well pleased that the controversy ended so happily. He advised the Major, however, to be more particular with his "double entry" hereafter when he opened a new set of shingles. In the Major's way of keeping accounts, while a large circle stood for cheese, a similar circle with a dot in the cen- ter represented a grindstone. In this instance he had neglected the dot, and hence the confusion at this settlement. Smith also objected to the cari- cature the Major had drawn to designate the debtor. He declared the ears were too long, and he'd be d-d if he had a turned-up nose and a sore heel.

The Major, in his day, was a general favorite, noted for his benevolence as well as for his many sterling business qualities. Nature had done a great deal for the Major, and with proper advantages he might have advanced to almost any position in society. He was always willing to pro- mote any good calling, or get up a horse race, and gave freely of his means to support churches and schoolhouses.

One day Mrs. B. informed the Major that a preacher would be there for dinner; that he should be on his good behavior; talk nice and pious, and above all to keep from swearing in the good man's presence; all of which the Major promised faithfully. He said he would just make that preacher believe he was a peddler from Jerusalem with a grip-sack full of tracts and holy water. "Bet'yer life, mam, you won't be ashamed of your darling this time." The preacher came, an elegant dinner was spread, and the Major, with the dignity of a statesman, took his seat at the table. He was all smiles and talked his prettiest, frequently calling the minister 'Squire, sometimes Judge, and once or twice he ornamented that follower of the Lamb with the title of General. He was getting along splendidly, and his good wife was in raptures. The Major was pleasingly congratulating him- self that his true sphere in life was pious and refined company, when the minister asked him "if there were any deer in this part of the country." At last he took the Major unawares, and, all excitement, his response was: "Why, J-s C-t, man, the woods are full of them!" Here tottered

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and fell the beautiful edifice he had erected for wife and minister. The Major's chagrin, the crushing disappointment of his wife, and the surprise and consternation of the minister over this little mishap formed a tableau unapproachable in its intensity, throbbing and palpitating with those pecu- liar feelings which find a struggle between irresistible smiles and tears. But was he to blame? In unguarded moments nature will break out, no matter how well fortified with good intentions.

In appearance, the Major looked like a hero. He had a splendid phy- sique, straight as an arrow, with a pair of shoulders that supported a head that might have been mistaken for the author of "give me liberty or give me death," but it never was. Forty years ago the Major's person was a matter of remark, as it indicated considerable prominence, and the result was, when abroad, he was sure to attract the notice of strangers. He fre- quently visited Columbus on business, making the trip on an Indian pony, which was the next best thing to a steam railway. He always stopped at the Neil, and had picked up an intimate acquaintace with old Modecai Bart- ley, then Governor of the State. One day at dinner, while the two were waiting to be served, the Major threw himself back in his chair and spread a newspaper before him with all the grace and dignity of a French savant. Any one coming in at that moment would certainly have taken him for the Governor, but he wasn't. After a good many guests had assembled around the table, the Major, who couldn't read, had accidentally got his paper upside down, and catching a glimpse of some marine advertisements embellished with small cuts of steamers, became very much excited and exclaimed: "Whew! By the holy Moses, there's been a h-1 of a storm on the lake. The ships are all upside down, and the dam things are leaking. This brought Mordicai to his feet, and looking over the Major's shoulder "saw the difficulty." He informed the Major that he held his paper wrong side up! The Major dropped to it immediately, and with his natural cunning remarked: "All in fun, Gov'ner; only trying to get up a little laugh for that one-eyed Senator at the other end of the table."

The Major lived many years in this place, and did business in a little log shanty, first opposite the old log tavern, and then on the site now occu- pied by Mr. Moody. For the last thirty years, he has resided in Carey, surrounded by a large circle of warm friends. He has been a widower a long time, making home with his daughter. He is still full of the old humor, and carries a cane, on which is tied a dozen or two specimens of calico; and when interrogated on this point, smilingly replies, that they are samples of the several widows who of late years have been persuasively troublesome; but he always has room on his cane for one more.

The Major is still a very interesting old gentleman and delights in re- bearsing old times on the plains. His account of a funeral at Bowsherville strips death of its solemnity, but the story doesn't pan out well unless the Major relates it .* He often speaks of being the architect of the two richest

*The subject of this funeral was Abe Roseberry. His wife preceded him to the other shore. Abe put in all his spare time in drinking whisky, which he drew from his own barrel and drank out of a tin cup. His wife was an invalid, looking and hoping for death every moment; not that she was weary of life or Abe, but of the wreck and pangs of disease. Abe loved his wife, and hearing she was about to die, grief- stricken, he grabbed his tin, drew it full of whisky, and rushing into the sick room, muttered in broken sobs: " Here, Debby, let's take one last drink together. You have always been kind to me, Debby- drink !" The poor woman was dead, yet ber glazed eyes seemed to have a tender smile for him. Crushed in the presence of death, the wild and unguarded nature gave way, and the wretched husband sank sense- less to the floor. After the death of his wife, Abe made a will, containing an item, that a barrel of whisky and a tub of honey should be appropriated for his friends. and that they should not bury him until the whisky and honey were exhausted. A short time after, Abe died; the remains were laid out in state, and for three days and nights his friends waked the corpse, striving to get away with the whisky and honey in accordance with the will. When the last tinful was passed around. the remains were placed in a wagon, and the march to the grave commenced. The mourners were a little top-heavy, yet the pangs of grief were

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men in the county, and that their remarkable advance to social and financial eminence was all due to his Christian advice and example. Although the Major's expletives were usually steeped in sulphur and would go off with the fury of several sky-rockets, he never permitted either of the Davids to in- dulge in the smallest cuss word; and to this day they are shocked at the slightest semblance to profanity. Even mill-dam was objectionable to one of them, and tenants were ordered to call it " water-stop" when his shadow rested upon the mill.

The Major is now resting under the weight of ninety years, yet still able to move among his friends, and has promised a visit to Upper Sandusky in a few days. Let every one give the old gentleman a hearty welcome.

THE FIRST SINGING SCHOOL.

There are two professions which seem to have a sympathetic alliance. The inspiration of one entwines gracefully with the merits of the other. It is keeping race horses in summer and teaching singing school in winter. It requires the same degree of talent and lung power, and the profits are not so much to be considered as the pleasure and gratification of the em- ployment.

In the fall of 1846, a young gentleman visited the new town of Upper Sandusky, ornamented with a long green bag which contained a violin, vulgarly, sometimes, called a fiddle. He announced himself as Prof. Van Gundy, and his object in greeting the people was to establish in our midst a singing school. Maj. Sears was then a young man who had led a choir or two at Bucyrus, and was somewhat noted for a fine falsetto voice. To him the Professor was directed for consolation. As we had just recovered from the small pox, the Major was a little diffident about spreading another epidemic, so he called to his assistance, Col. McKelly, Capt. Ayres, J. G. Roberts and Jacob Juvinall. They held a council of war over Van Gundy's fitness to practice his winter profession with the same degree of expertness that fol- lowed his alleged success during the summer. The Professor passed a very flattering examination, and as one of the above gentlemen remarked, " he could chaw patent notes with any man in America, living or dead," and was allowed to open the old Council House for business.

Of course the house was jammed, as nothing seemed to take so well in those days as a singing school. Prof. Van Gundy made his appearance; was in raptures over his enthusiastic reception, and, without further ceremony, un- wrapped the violin from its green bag, and rendered "Old Hundred " with such fascinating rhapsody that the Major called for three cheers. He said he had heard Paganini's "Last Rose of Summer " Ole Bull's " Arkansaw Traveler," and Deacon McGill's " Bear Trot," but that Gundy's "Star Span- gled Banner " beat them all and was entitled to the cake. Of course the Major did'nt like it very well when Billy King rose to a point of order, and insisted "that the Major should not try to palm off the doxology upon an intelligent audience for one of our national hymns." The Major, then, a good deal like he is now, appealed to the chair for the correctness of his musical judgment, and the chair, who was the Professor himself, " downed

none the less evident When they came to the grave they found it considerably too short and not half wide enough to admit the coffin, so they thought they would take the corpse back and have another drink while the grave digger was making a larger hole, and they did. By this time the shades of night were crawling upon them, but Abe had to be buried, and a second start was made. When the wagon drove up to the grave, and Maj. Bowsher was clearing his throat to pass an appropriate eulogy upon the life and services of the deceased, the corpse was missing ! The old wagon leaked and dropped Abe somewhere on the way. "ack rushed the mourners in search of the corpse, which they readily found; and at last Abe was planted. is is the substance of Abe's wake and funeral, which the Major amplifies with so many amusing situa- tions, that you are irresistibly compelled to smile at death.

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The History of Wyandot County, Ohio, containing a history of the county, its townships, towns general and local statistics, military record, portraits of early settlers and prominent men etc, Part 59

Author: Publication date: 1884 Publisher: Chicago, Leggett, Conaway Number of Pages: 1072

Author:
Publication date: 1884
Publisher: Chicago, Leggett, Conaway
Number of Pages: 1072