USA > Ohio > Miami County > Piqua > The first century of Piqua, Ohio > Part 23
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In the earlier days the way of the lawyer had many a thorn that does not prick the legal fraternity of the twentieth century. Not only was transportation to neighboring courts a problem, but law books were hard to get. They were high priced, and legal pocket-books at that time were not in the state of repletion that characterizes your plethoric purses, my friends. And sometimes when the necessary dollars and cents were on hand, the very books most needed were not obtainable. Institu- tions of learning were not so convenient as now; in fact the incipient lawyer of the fifties felt often as if he were like the fabled frog which climbed up one step to slip back two.
Among the names of the judges of that time were Judges Dunlevy, Parsons, Hart and others. And as I recall the men who adorned the bench at that time I also remember a famous retort discourteous. The story is told that two men were disturbing the order of a court room in this country, when the judge, wishing to preserve the dignity of the occasion, imposed a fine for contempt of court. One man in indigation turned to his honor and exclaimed vociferously : "You needn't put on so many airs! I can remember when you were so poor you had to go to bed while your wife washed your breeches."
One of the lawyers of that elder day was Gordon Mott, a man of fine presence. He inclined toward military ideas, and interspersed cases with drills. On the Rossville bridge in one of these drills he was walking backward directing the maneuvers of a company, when he disappeared from view. A yawning hole in the floor of the bridge had swallowed Mr. Mott with all his military glory and legal attainments. However, he was rescued from a watery grave,-to quote Mr. Mantalini, "a damned moist unpleasant body."
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There have been many fiercely fought contests in the courts of Miami county. Perhaps the murder cases have excited as much interest as any others. After all, human life weighed more than gold or lands.
The Regan trial in 1856 was one of the most famous criminal trials in this section of the country. A married woman, Jane Elizabeth Regan, was accused of poisoning her husband. Arrested, under promises that a confession would aid her, she gave evidence before the grand jury that she had given her husband arsenic. She, after administering this quiet- ing and soothing potion, went to a church meeting and made, it was said, an excellent prayer. The case on the part of the state was prepared with great care. A post mortem examination of the stomach of the dead man showed the presence of arsenic. But at the trial the doctor who made the examination admitted, in reply to questions of the defense, that one of the medicines the dead man had taken, if it lay dormant in the stomach, might combine with another drug he had taken, and present the appear- ance of arsenic. It was also brought out in the trial that the deceased had often hinted at suicide, for he was very unhappy. The verdict was not guilty. The case for the state was conducted by M. H. Jones, prose- cuting attorney, assisted by Ebenezer Parsons. Judge J. A. Corwin, assisted by Judge James H. Hart, my brother, S. S. Mckinney, and my- self defended the criminal. Judge Corwin's speech to the jury was a masterpiece of eloquence.
Another trial in which my brother and myself were the lawyers for the defense, was that of Oscar Davis, accused of the murder of his wife. The prosecuting attorney was assisted by Major Stephen Johnston. Mr. Davis lost his liberty, for the penitentiary received him, but his life was saved.
A famous trial of forty years ago was that of a man named Hobatta. He, with a friend, was returning from the gold mines of California. About eight miles northwest of Piqua, Hobatta killed his friend for his gold. The trial resulted in the accused being convicted of murder in the second degree. One of the lawyers in this case was Samuel E. Brown, who afterward went to Denver where he had an extensive practice.
There are many men associated with my later years of practice whose brilliancy of intellect and knowledge of law are well known-Judge Wil- liams, E. S. Williams, Walter Thomas, C. N. Burns, W. C. Johnston, Asbury Kerr, E. H. Kerr, A. L. Marshall, Geo. A. Brooks, Judge Jones, M. K. Gantz and George S. Long. Many other memory of past days is clamorous for attention, but I shall not trespass much longer on your patience.
The century which is gone was the arena of my legal battles and it holds my best remembrances, but to you. my friends, to whom the new
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century stretches forth its hands filled with generous promise, and to you, my beloved friends of other years, I offer a greeting and a prayer for your success. I burn incense on the altars of both memory and hope.
Mr. Mckinney died June 18, 1903.
MAJOR STEPHEN JOHNSTON
We are indebted personally to Major Johnston for many incidents that are contained in the body of our history, and regret that he did
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MAJOR STEPHEN JOHNSON
not write a complete reminiscence of his life. The following memorial will, in a measure at least, make up for this omission :
To the Officers and Members of Miami Bar Association :
Your committee appointed on the 22nd inst., to prepare a suitable memorial touching the life and character of Honorable Stephen Johnston, late a member of our bar, beg leave to submit the following :-
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Stephen Johnston was born on the 29th day of September, 1812, in what was then the village of Washington, but what is now the city of Piqua, Miami County, Ohio.
His father, Stephen Johnston, and his uncle, Colonel John Johnston, came to Ohio in 1808. They were descendants of Irish ancestors.
In 1810 his father was married in Miami county, Ohio. to Mary Caldwell, of Kentucky.
In 1812 his father was government store-keeper at Fort Wayne where he then lived with his family. Early in August of that year on account of serious trouble with the Indians in- cident to the war of 1812, Mrs. Johnston and their little daughter were sent to Piqua. It was expected the father would join his wife and little daughter at Piqua as soon as he could arrange to leave Fort Wayne. Unfortunately, before the opportunity came for him to do so, on the 28th day of August, 1812, he was killed by the Indians at Fort Wayne, just one month and one day be- fore Major Johnston was born.
Mrs. Johnston, his mother, was one of the remarkable women of her time and was contemporary of Daniel Boone. She died in September, 1861.
When a young lad Major Johnston walked through the woods from Piqua to Urbana, Ohio, where he learned the sad- dler's trade. He became proficient in this business and followed it for fourteen years.
In 1841 he was elected sheriff of Miami county and was re- elected in 1843. During two terms he lived in the sheriff's resi- dence in Troy, on the corner of Main and Plum streets, in what is now the Broomhall Office Building. After his term expired he moved to Piqua where he lived the remainder of his life.
He was elected a member of the legislature in 1845 and served one term.
On the 25th day of April, 1837, he was married to Uretta Garnsey, a resident of Piqua, who survives. Seven children were born of this marriage. Judge William C. Johnston, a mem- ber of this Bar, is one of the sons.
He entered the Union army on the 18th day of April, 1861, as a captain of a company in the Eleventh Ohio Infantry. He resigned his commission in September of the same year.
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He drafted the charter of Piqua and was its first mayor. He also served the city as solicitor and as a member of the city council.
He was the first chief or captain of Piqua's fire department. He was the chief promoter in constructing the Piqua Hydraulic, and was a zealous advocate in defense of the canal system of the state.
Major Johnston was originally a Whig but became a Repub- lican on the organization of that party.
He was Presidential elector on the Republican ticket in 1864. He was candidate for governor on the Greenback ticket in 1877, and for years was an advocate of currency reform.
He was a member and for a while president of the Board of Trustees of the Ohio State University at Columbus and was an active and earnest friend of the University and of the agri- cultural interests of the state.
During his term of sheriff he read law and after his term expired and while pursuing the saddler's trade, he continued to read law.
During a session of the Supreme Court held in Troy, on the 21st day of June, 1850, Stephen Johnston, together with William F. Ross, James T. JJanvier, and William S. Powers, were admit- ted to practice.
In 1849 Major Johnston drafted the charter of the Colum- bus, Piqua and Indiana Railway Company on his saddler's bench. This is the line of railway extending east and west through Piqua and is now a part of the great Pennsylvania Sys- tem. He was counsel for this company for a period of twenty or more years after its organization.
He continued in the practice of law until five or six years ago. Ilis last important legal work was his appearance before the Supreme Court to argue a case orally when he was eighty- five (85) years of age.
Through his long life Major Johnston was an agreeable, affable and courteous gentleman. He was possessed of a strong and rugged physique. He was a man of fine personal appear- ance, always dressed neat and with good taste. His appear- ance would attract attention anywhere. He was considerate in his treatment of the younger members of the Bar. He was in
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earnest and persistent in the presentation of his cases. He de- tested anything that smacked of the irregular or sharp practice.
Major Johnston endeared himself to his fellow citizens by his many admirable qualities. His private life was pure, attrac- tive and useful. His public life was also pure and useful to the public, and especially useful to his home city.
He was kind and generous in his treatment of his fellow cit- izens. He was always ready to extend a helping hand to the de- serving who sought his assistance.
Major Johnston's marriage was happy, his children and grandchildren affectionate, and he enjoyed the rare felicity of unbroken domestic happiness. His was a long life, spanning al- most a century, and was well spent in the county of his birth. His death occurred at his home in Piqua, June 20, 1903, aged ninety (90) years, eight (S) months, and twenty-one (21) days.
Your committee recommends the adoption of the following resolution :
Resolved-That the foregoing minute and memorial be adopted as a just tribute to the life and character of Stephen Johnston.
That the same be entered upon the records of this associa- tion and a copy be presented to the Court of Common Pleas, and that a copy be presented to the family of the deceased.
WILLIAM H. GILBERT, GEORGE A. BROOKS, D. S. LINDSAY.
Passed June 29, 1903.
In closing this sketch of Major Johnston's life we will copy one in- cident not previously noted :
On noticing an account of the death of Blue Jacket at his home in Indian Territory, Major Johnston recalled the following personal inci- dent which will be of interest to all our readers :
I noticed an article in some of the papers announcing the death of Blue Jacket, one of the Shawnee tribe of Indians, who formerly resided at Wapakoneta.
He was the son of George Blue Jacket, a noted chief of the Shawnees, and resided in the Indian Territory, not far from the southern boundary of Kansas, on the railroad at a station called for him.
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A few years since I stepped on the train going east and on passing through the cars I noticed two dark-skinned men that I supposed were Indians. I took the seat just behind them and asked one of them what tribe they belonged to. He replied "to the Shawnees." I then remarked : "You are now passing through your old stamping ground," and he re- plied, "yes." I asked him his name and he answered, "Blue Jacket." I then asked : "Are you a son of George Blue Jacket ?" He said, "Yes." I said I knew him well, and he then asked me what my name was, and I replied, "Johnston ;" when he said, "Are you related to Johnston, the former Indian agent?" I said, "Yes." We then became quite intimate and commenced talking about the different Indians and the interpre- ters that I know. I then asked him if he knew Mr. Nicholas Greenham, a trader with his people. He said he knew him well. I asked him if he knew the name he was called by the Indians, but he said he had for- gotten it.
I reminded him that when the Indians found his name to be "Green- ham," they at once gave him the name of an unsalted green ham "Skip- ah-getha," and by that name he was known among the Indians.
Blue Jacket greatly enjoyed this incident related to him.
He extended to me a cordial invitation to visit him, and some years after that I passed through his place on the railroad but had not time to make the visit.
His comrade on the train was a minister of the gospel.
THE TROJAN WAR
As a prelude to Perry Tuttle's account of the "Battle of Bradford,' we will give his reminiscence of Major Johnston, who was at that dat (1842) sheriff of the county :
Fifty years ago I resided in Troy, and so did Ralph S. Hart and Charles Morris, Esq., both young attorneys-at-law. On one occasion they were invited to address the people in the Dye neighborhood, thre miles south-east of Troy, on the subject of temperance in opposition t the habit some people had of drinking whisky. The people in that neigl borhood did not entertain views in harmony with these temperance led turers, and the result was that rotten eggs were supplied and used o the speakers with uncomfortable feelings of disgust, and the good peopl were driven from the house in disorder. There was a distillery not fa off which was run by a man named Lair, and the supposition was ente: tained that the product of the distillery was used to break up the mee ing.
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Two men were indicted as "particeps-criminis" in throwing the rot- ten eggs, and were tried on the indictments, found guilty and sentenced by the court (Judge Holt presiding) to imprisonment in the county jail for ten days on bread and water. They were duly incarcerated accord- ing to the terms of their sentence. A mob of people numbering three hundred met at the Broad ford below Troy and sent a delegation of four men to the sheriff demanding the release of the prisoners. I think J. M. Dye, M. Carver, Lair, and a man by the name of Davis were the commit- tee. The sheriff refused to discharge the prisoners and called out the militia, the Troy Blues, and one company of infantry and one of cavalry from Piqua, who paraded the streets of Troy and the road at the Broad ford, and the rebels were disbanded. The sheriff had expended sixty or seventy dollars in incidental expenses-powder and lead (no whisky)- but the auditor and commissioners refused to audit the account. An agreed state of facts was entered into by the auditor and sheriff and submitted to the Supreme Court, then in session in this county, which court decided in favor of the sheriff, and the bill was paid. At that date we had a Supreme Court which held court in the different counties of the state, and our final resort was then called the Court in Bank, at Co- umbus. And so ended the Trojan War.
PERRY E. TUTTLE
Perry Erie Tuttle, (named for Commodore Perry), was born at Watertown, N. Y., Sept. 16, 1816, and traced his descent in a direct line rom Wmn. Tuttle, who came from England to the port of Boston in the ship "Planter," in the spring of 1635. Perry was the oldest of eight children. The others were Gaylord, Frank, Julia (Mrs. Fred. Wright), aura (Mrs. G. V. Dorsey), Mary (Mrs. C. S. Dyer), Mrs. J. W. Elliott, ind Mrs. Kate Harlow.
In 1835 the entire family came to Piqua, but soon afterward located etween Springfield and Urbana. Perry went on to Chicago, which was hen a large village of 3,500, where he remained two years. He then perated a grist-mill on Mad river for about two years, coming back to 'iqua in 1839. His Piqua experience is best told by the following letter rom him to his sister, Mrs. Kate Harlow :
Indianapolis, February 20, 1881.
There are a multitude of pleasant memories associated with my eight years' residence in Piqua, that I am somewhat plagued to make a selection for talking or writing about. You will re- member, my dear sister, that I was the avaunt courier of the fam- ily, so to speak ; a sort of forerunner. Let us see-it was forty- five years ago. I was not old enough to vote then. I remember
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I came over from Springfield in a hack and stopped at the "Na- tional Hotel," a tavern kept by D. P. Conrad, which has since undergone an entire transformation. It is now called City hotel. It was Saturday in October in the year 1836. On Sunday the day following, I succeeded in making the acquaintance of quite a number of representative young men of the village through the kindness and courtesy of mine host. How well I remember Joe Young, Kelly Bennett, Stephen Johnston, Christ Snively, Jim- mie Defrees, Fred Geyer, Walker McCorkle, John Morrow, and many others. They came swarming into the hotel from the old brick Methodist church just across the canal. I remember Steve Johnson wore a swallow-tailed blue coat with brass buttons. He was in high dudgeon concerning some doctrinal point or other
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OLD TUTTLE HOTEL, BUILT IN 1840
that the clergyman had promulgated in his sermon. Joe Young, in a half serious, half waggish sort of way, admonished the irate young man to curb his temper, and give his rhetoric an airing on some other day besides the Lord's day. I thought at the time the Major, as he is since called, was an exceedingly good-looking fellow and I froze to him right off. At this time William Scott was the leading merchant, Dr. John O'Ferrall the leading physi- cian, John Keyt and Cavendar Dills the leading builders. Gen- eral Robert Young was the best talker, and Jacob Landis the hottest politician on the Whig side, and old Jos Defrees on the Democratic. Old Mr. Carson was postmaster, George Johnson
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the best and only wing shot, and old John Chatham owned the biggest dog. Old Judge Leavell was the most expert and suc- cessful fisherman, Colonel John Johnston and Grant Mitchell were the pillars of the Episcopal church, and John Keyt and Cavender Dills sustained a like relation to the Methodist. At the north end of Main street John M. Cheevers and Captain John Endicot sold domestic and foreign liquors by the barrel and keg; and at the south end was John Tamplin's tavern. Between these two points Martin Simpson sold leather ; Mitchell & Frye, drugs and physic; George Brown, iron, salt and grindstones; L. R. Brownell, Nicholas Greenham, the Youngs, William Scott, John W. Gordon, Ned Kitchen, dry goods; David Jordan made pottery- ware and Fred. Geyer made tin buckets and collenders; George Johnston talked Shawnee and bought coon skins; Jacob Landis made saddles and harness; Jim Carson and Wm. Johnston tan- ned hides ; the Bennetts, father and sons, made bureaus and bed- steads; Crozier made wagons; Lewis Webb made hats; and Father Best painted signs and houses and occasionally a por- trait, and was a prominent figure in the amen corner of the Methodist church and an eloquent leader in prayer at religous revivals.
This was, in brief, Piqua in the fall of 1836. I ought to add, perhaps, in the public square was a market house, and John Vail's academy. Many of these citizens were leading and prom- inent business men, and others became so afterwards, and this record would not be just and complete if I omitted such names as Demas Adams, Jr., Col. Thos. B. Vanhorne, the brothers Mat- thew and Stephen Caldwell. The brothers John, James and Frank Johnston, and Hugh Scott were the patriarchs of the vil- lage, or perhaps I should say of the community, for they did not reside within the village limits. There were no railroad, tele- graph, canal or turnpike facilities. A bridge spanned the Miami at the north and south ends of Main street, and one crossing the river at the cedar bluff. The northern bridge connected Piqua with Rossville, and the south one with the Devil's half acre, as it was then called. These ancient structures have been replaced by others more substantial, no doubt, and it is to be hoped that the advance of civilization and good morals has so changed the character of the little community at the east end of the lower bridge as to make its name traditional, if not to obliterate it alto- gether.
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I recall with much pleasure, my dear sister, and I have no doubt you do the same, the eminently social and friendly char- acter of the people of Piqua at the time of which I write, and of its continuance during our sojourn among them. We had our dancing parties in the winter; and our spring, summer and au- tumu picnics in the woods. The Miami afforded the finest of bass fishing, and the woods and fields a variety and abundance of game. In the way of show amusements the facilities were exceedingly meagre compared to those of the present day. The circus and menagerie, however, never failed to put in an appear- ance sometime during the summer or fall. This was always a welcome event, and was, of course, well patronized.
The certainty of the canal being opened in the near future gave Piqua a prestige and prominence at home and abroad. Mat- ters took a speculative turn and I resolved to build a hotel. The building at the corner of North and Main streets, and now called the "Miami House," was built by me in 1839, and opened in 1840. It was then regarded as a magnificent and stupendous enterprise -an enterprise that would waft its projector to fame and for- tune. I need scarcely state that this prediction has not been realized, by a very large majority. I seldom fail to think of it without regarding it as an act of supreme folly. If I live to be a hundred years old I shall never forget the opening of that hotel. It was a free blow. In the afternoon I gave a dinner to the old people and in the evening a ball to the young. The girls and the young fellows didn't sleep for a week thinking of it. I en- gaged a long time in advance those renowned colored musicians, the Bowles, father and two sons, whose home was in Mercer county. How well I remember the anxious faces of Joe Young and Kelly Bennett, as the sun was going down and no Bowles and sons on hand.
The long bridge at the head of Main street was utilized as a look-out by these worthy gentlemen and many others. Every five minutes a report came in from the bridge that the Bowles were not in sight. Their failure to come began to assume hor- rible and appalling proportions. The play of Hamlet might, under some conditions, proceed without the sad-faced Dane, and a camp-meeting has been run successfully without a straw, but a dance without music was simply an impossibility. At last in dim twilight three horsemen were seen coming down the St. Marys road. They caused a slight movement among the eager and silent watchers. "Are they black or white," says Joe. "and
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can you count them?" "There are three," says Kelly, "and as black as the devil. I can see the whites of their eyes and their fiddle boxes." "Thank God for His mercies," says Joe, and the dance proceeded.
The ball-room was on the third floor, and is there yet, or was a few years ago. I had a dome made in the ceiling, a mag- nificent affair. When I saw it last it reminded me of an inverted sugar kettle. I have stood under that dome with heart palpi- tating with wonder and delight, (the dome of St. Peter's is insig- nificant in comparison). When John Keyt and Cavender Dills designed and built it, it was the crowning act of their profes- sional lives; and what is more astonishing they survived the ef- fort many years and raised large and respectable families. But whether the descendants of these worthy builders are cognizant of this phenomenal piece of architecture is more than I can say. This was in the year 1840, a year that will ever be memorable in the history of our country for its log-cabin and hard-cider campaigns. The holstery became popular and famous through- out the length and breadth of the land. It was the headquarters of the Miami canal engineer corps, and the favorite resort of itinerant commercial drummers and the political stumpers of that excitable campaign. Gen. Harrison, Tom Corwin and Col. Dick Johnson have stretched their historical legs under its boun- tifully supplied table. Its four years' career was indeed a bril- liant one. I could relate a score of interesting incidents, some sad and some merry, that transpired during my management had I time. One must suffice now. My stable became terribly in- fested with rats. They seemed to come from all parts of the town and they were prolific beyond all known rules of computa- tion, and exhibited in a bold and fearless manner the very worst characteristics of their natures. All my efforts to decimate their numbers proved obortive. Their nocturnal riotings, and hostile encounters in the stall partitions, under the floors, and in the hay loft, were positively blood curdling. By the light of a lan- tern their tails could be seen wriggling through the cracks and knot-holes of the partitions and in the hay-racks. Many a night armed with a strong pair of shears and a lantern I have har- vested a score of rats' tails. Woe to the rat that suffered his tail to dangle through a knot-hole or wriggle in the hay rack. The modus operandi was to simply grip the tail with the fingers, pull it as far as the rat's body would permit and give a vigorous cut with the shears. The squeak that followed conveyed a vivid im-
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