USA > Ohio > Medina County > Wadsworth > Wadsworth memorial; an account of the proceedings of the celebration of the sixtieth anniversary of the first settlement of the township of Wadsworth, Ohio > Part 5
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their dismal concert, down at the point of the rock, where the sawmill now stands. They were sometimes caught with steeltraps, but the most common way was the wolf- pen ; a pen made of poles, about eight feet by three, and three feet high, with the top firmly pinned together, and raised by means of a spring. This was baited with fresh meat, which the wolf coming in and gnawing, he would spring the trap, and remain a prisoner.
But saddest of all the episodes of those new settlements, were the searches for the lost ones ; a not uncommon inci- dent to the early settlement in those vast forests. The memorable one of Wadsworth, was a long and fruitless search for a young woman, who was a deaf mute, and sub- ject to paroxysms of mental derangement, during which she was much inclined to escape from the house, and wan- der off. Her name was Sylva Beach, daughter of Abel Beach, and sister of Orlando Beach. In March, 1823, one evening, being with her mother, in the yard of the house, as her mother went in, she slipped around the house. The family ran out, but could not find her. They and the neighbors searched for her all night, and in the morning, horseback couriers were sent to all in the region, for three or four miles around.
There had been a slight fall of snow, in which tracks were to be found, and traced about a mile ; but the rising sun soon melted the snow away. The search was organ- ized about 10 o'clock, under the direction of William Eyles, chosen commander, with a general committee of arrange- ments, among whom I recollect Frederick Brown, Allen Pardee, and Sherman Loomis. The woods of Wadsworth and Sharon, and some parts of Copley, Norton, and Chip- pewa, were searched for several days. They came from Guilford, Chippewa, Norton, and Copley, till the line was increased to over four hundred men, stationed one every four rods, or sometimes broken into two or more bands, searching in different directions.
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At length they met at the Center one morning for con- sultation, after about a week's search. The committee, after conferring with the father and brothers, concluded to go over the grounds nearest the place of her departure, and in case of failure, give up the search. I can recall the very words of Esq. Eyles, as he addressed the crowd that assembled at the Center on that third morning, before forming the line, which reached beyond the hill, west of Holmes' Brook. (I was then a boy nine years old).
"Fellow-citizens," said he, "give me your attention for a moment, while I give you our directions. You will march westward, and let one man stop every fourth rod. Let each man look to his right hand man, each man to keep his proper distance, and not break the line. You will start at the sound of the horn at the west end, which will be repeated by the horns all the way through. When the last horn sounds, all move forward ; then let no man shout, no horn blow, except to announce that she is found. Search around every log or brush-heap with great care, for we only expect to find her lifeless body ; and let each man re- member his responsibility. This is not a bear-hunt, or a wolf-hunt, but a search for a lost fellow-creature, and may God give us success ! Move forward !"
Never was a community more stirred in sympathy for a poor wanderer, and the afflicted family. But search was unavailing. Advertisements were sent to the Ohio Re- pository (Canton), and the Cleveland Herald, but no tid- ings of the lost one or any remains were ever found.
The first death in Wadsworth was that of Daniel Ware, in 1817. He was buried in the south burial ground. The funeral discourse was preached by John Wise, of Chippe- wa. His coffin was made by Reuben Warner, and others, from puncheons split from a tree, and hewed down to thin planks.
The next death was that of an infant daughter of Frede- rick and Chloe Brown (my sister); died July 15th, 1817.
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This was the first bur ial in the Center ground. The sec- ond buried in that ground was Abraham Falconer, son of Henry Falconer; died, 1817. The first adult burial was that of John Curtis; died of consumption, in 1820. The second adult burial, Julia, Wife of Sherman Loomis, and daughter of Augustus Mills, in 1820. The next, Mrs. Wright, wife of William Henry Wright, and daughter of Lysander Hard, in 1821. The first buried in the town line ground was the wife of Ebenezer Wright, and mother of W. H. Wright, in April, 1825. The next, John Sprague, in 1826. The next, Lyman Brown ; killed by falling under a cart loaded with stone, at Akron, in 1826.
WADSWORTH ACADEMY.
The first school above the grade of common school, was held in the winter of 1830-1, in the then new Congrega- tional Church. The teacher was George W. Barnes, a stu- dent of Western Reserve College. The next by Loren Ken- nedy. The next by Isaac VanTassel-both also students of the same College. The next by John McGregor, a na- tive of Scotland ; a scholar, and in many respects a model teacher.
In 1839, Wadsworth Academy was incorporated, and the octagon house erected, which has for a few years past been used as a church. In this Mr. McGregor continued as teacher till 1846. Several different persons taught for a short time in succession, till the graded school was estab- lished, and the Academy went into disuse, and the build- ing was sold.
In the days of the Academy, Wadsworth was sought by young men from many surrounding towns, as the place to obtain the rudiments of a higher education ; and the num- ber is not small of those who have made their mark in the world, in the learned professions and as business men, who had their start here. * × *
The first military training was in the road in front of my father's house, which stood where Dr. Lyman's garden
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now is. The company was made up from the towns of Wadsworth and Guilford. David Wilson Captain ; Reu- ben F. Warner Lieutenant.
Of the brilliant achievements of that day, I can recollect but one; but it equaled that of a renouned king, " with twenty thousand men," which the poet's pen has immor- talized, for they "marched down the hill, and then marched up again." The next year, the Guilford company being set off' and Captain Wilson with it, George Lyman was elected Captain, Marcus Brown Lieutenant, and Calvin Dorwin Ensign. They trained in the field where Dr. Ly" man's house and barn now stand. The next Captain elec ted and commissioned was Lemuel North ; but he failed to make his appearance on the muster day, on account of sick- ness, and Peter Weeks, Ensign, took command, using a cra- dle-finger for a sword. He performed his duty with sin- gular gallantry, considering that he was quite lame, from a severe wound in the knee, received that morning, in & skirmish with my father's old dog Trim, who could not understand why a man should be coming through his mas- ter's field, " with regimentals on."
The next Captain was John Crissman. The next year, Norman Curtis, a recent emigrant from New York, where he had served as Captain, was elected to command the Wadsworth militia. Then began the cra proper of the military spirit, or rather, its revival to what it was under Lyman's administration. The company greatly enlarged. Captain Curtis inspired them with an ambition to be the largest, best equipped, and best disciplined company in the regiment. Being promoted to Major, and then to Colonel, his brother, Cyrus Curtis, Jr., became Captain. He was succeeded by Harry A. Mills, afterwards promoted to Col. He by Daniel Warner.
What was the record of Wadsworth in the great strug- gle of our country, the pens of those who know must tell ; but I have no doubt " the most gallant sons of gallant sires"
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did their duty, and fill their place on Ohio's roll of honor.
I have thus endeavored to carry your minds back to the beginning of things in this flourishing village, and the towns and country round. My business has been only to show you the past. To picture to your mind's eye, Wads- worth as it was. You have called us back from our dis- tant homes, to show us Wadsworth as it is. We find the old landmarks fast disappearing, and sometimes find it hard to connect the old with the new.
The present generation can form no such conception of the grand old forests we were once familiar with, as. our memory recalls. Nor did our most sanguine hopes take in a view of what Wadsworth was to become. The least of all seeds has grown to a magnificent tree.
We bridge the chasm of half a century (and to the elders the span is but a short one), but how different the views apon either side. There, vast forests of primitive oaks, chestnuts, beeches, and sycamores, with here and there & log house and barn-the view confined to a few acres! Here, broad farms, stretching in the distance, with large farmhouses and barns, making in every direction, a land- scape of surpassing beauty! There, the little log school- house, sixteen feet by twenty, with its low, sliding win- dows, and fireplace occupying half of one end ! Here, the brick structure, ample enough for a College of the olden time, and even the College bell, heard ringing out clearly on the morning air ! There, the little shops, of humble pre- tensions, but hard labor and toil ! Here, large manufac- turing houses, going up on every side, and the wares of Wadsworth contending for prizes in distant States! There, the wagon-track following the line of blazed trees, and a dozen miles to some stage route! Here, the shrill whistle announcing the arrival of the cars, on one of the great national railroads! There, the post-rider on a jaded borse, with his tin horn announcing the arrival of the weekly newspapers, giving you the news from New York,
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not more than three weeks old ! Here, the daily mail and the telegraph, giving the news from the same points, in as many hours ; and the issues of the Press, from this village, going by hundreds of thousands to every State in the Un- ion! There, the farmer scarcely able, from his products, to raise the money for his taxes! Here, the very earth opening, and yielding up to the miner the hoards of wealth stored for ages !
We, then, who by your hospitality have been invited from our distant homes, in this and various other States, to this pleasant re-union on the old, familiar ground, bid you a hearty God-speed in the growing prosperity of our beloved town, in whose welfare we have felt a common interest, though other States, or other towns, now claim us.
Though Providence, in years past, has cast our lots iu newer scenes; though we can speak with pride and pleas- ure of our joyful homes far away from you (for we live in a favored land, that under a Christian civilization, a free government, and liberal institutions, makes a home for hu- manity everywhere); though we can tell of delightful scenery, of broad, fertile prairies, of beautiful and grow- ing towns, not a few of them founded by your own form- er citizens ; though we love these homes, we have foundno better land than this. It would be hard, in this land, to find an area of five miles square, having as many natural advantages combined, as can be found in Wadsworth, Ohio.
Go with me to Prospect Point, as we called it in my youth, one mile east of this village, and there take in the view from every point of the compass, and I can show you a landscape view, with Wadsworth as its center, contain- ing not grandeur, but beauty and loveliness. With all that is necessary to make desirable homes, and prosperous and happy people, unsurpassed, I fear not to say, in this or any other land, where a kind Providence, with no parsimoni- ous hand, prepared a home for a happy and prosperons
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people. Happy, so long as virtuous. Prosperous, so long as frugal, industrious, and temperate. Blessed in your basket and your store, in the city and the field, so long as you forget not the God of your fathers.
And now, having enjoyed this first and last happy re-un- ion, we bid you and each other, not a sad, but a cheerful and affectionate good-bye.
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A SKETCH OF THE EARLY SETTLERS OF WADSWORTH AND CHIPPEWA.
By Peter Waltz.
In August, 1814, a company of thirteen of us started from Ellsworth, to come West. Names as follows: My father, brother John, Catherine, and myself; Christopher Rasor, William Rasor, Christian Rasor, and George Rasor ; old Father Everhard, Christian Everhard. Jacob Everhard. and Jacob Smith.
We started on Monday morning, about the middle of August, with two wagons loaded with provisions. The first day, we came about six miles, to Turkey Creek, where we broke an axle of one of our wagons. Here we en- ramped over night, and repaired the wagon. The next day, we came to this side of Deerfield, and encamped on what was called Yellow Creek. The third day, we got along finely till almost night, when we again had bad luck. The other wagon was broken in the same way as the first. This day, we arrived at Suffield.
In the morning we started, and came as far as to where old Mr. Cahow lived, near Wolf Creek; from there, we crossed Wolf Creek and came on the old Harrisville trail, across the Broad Bottoms Run; then came west to near where Jacob Miller's house now stands. From hence, cut the road southward, to where John Everhard lived. We arrived there little before night set in. They had erected a shanty here, in the Spring, in which we all found lodging until Monday. We then cut a road to where Jacob Ever- hard lived, and from this place, we cut our way through to our new home, known at present as the site of the Old Waltz Church. We had to seek shelter in our wagons for two nights. The third night, we had quite a house to live in. Then, you may believe, we felt at home.
When our company came to Middlebury, Judge Norton, and William Hart's father lived there, and had erected a mall grietmill. They wanted to know whether we be-
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longed to an army, as we were well armed. I think our company had with them niue guns.
We worked hard all summer, in order to clear enough land to sow some wheat in the fall. The next Spring, in April, 1815, we moved our families. You may imagine what a time we had in getting here.
We brought a lot of hogs along, and as the bears were then quite numerous and annoying, we were obliged to keep them penned up all summer, so as to shield them from the depredations of Bruin. The bears killed two of our hogs. We discovered two of the savage beasts, while in the act of devouring them, and as we had two firstrate dogs to assist us, the bears had no chance of escape.
Now I will give you an account of how we obtained our salt in those days. In the fall of 1815, myself and father went to Cleveland for some. We had a span of horses, and a yoke of cattle, hitched to the same wagon, which was loaded with pork and wild honey. The first day, we got to where Mr. King kept tavern. From here we start- ed, and got on the wrong road, and struck the river, below Old Portage. We kept on the west side of the river, till we got down to where James Brown lived, where we broke one of our wagon chains, in consequence of which, we were delayed one day. My father sent me to Hudson, a distance of seven miles, to get the chain mended. The charges for the same were twelve and a half cents. It took eight days to go to Cleveland and return.
Middlebury was the place we got our grinding done. It always took two days to go to mill, and return. Where Upper Akron is now situated, was then a large alder- swamp, through which we could not drive, but were obliged to drive around it.
A full record of the pioneer events would cover pages, but I will close.
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Wadsworth Pioneers. By Mrs. S. M. Eastman.
I fain would sing the praise of those who first began To make, in Western wilds, a home for toiling man. From peaceful, quiet homes, where much was laid in store, And strife with savage men was long since known no more, Where sire, and grandsire's sire, had lived, and loved, and died, And grand-dams, in their youth, were brought as happy brides; From all that makes life sweet-kindred, and kindred's kin, They journeyed to those wilds, a new life to begin.
Not as we see to-day, fields, rich with waving grain, With stately house, or modest cot, on every hill, and plain; No well-kept, broad highway, a guide for them was made; By sun, or stars, from day to day, their onward course was laid Through forest, wild and vast, untrod by Christian man, Where the red Indian lurked, and the fierce panther ran; Where savage beasts, in savage wilds, roamed at their own free will. And every night, the wolf's dread howl was heard, from hill to hill;
Where deadly serpents lurked beside the fairest bubbling spring, And death and danger seemed to dwell in every living thing. To such a home, those brave men came with earnest hearts, and true, Bringing the wealth of faithful wives, and children not a few. Small store of gear for outward wear, and less of household pelf- All that was worn by sire or son, each matron made, herself. Rude were the homes those hardy men first reared, amid the wilds, Of unhewn logs, and earth for floor, with oaken punchcon tiled.
On the broad hearth, a generous store of giant logs was laid, And every night its ruddy glow on happy faces played, And by its light the housewife toiled, the children played in glee, While the father told of the olden time, to the boy beside his knee. But fast, beneath the ringing strokes, by sturdy axmen dealt, The giant monarchs loose their crowns, the mighty forests melt; And soon, the green stalks of the maize show in the open glade, The first this soil had ever known since first the world was made,
Ere long, the lowing of the herds, the bleating of the lambs, Gave promise of a rich reward to faithful hearts and hands; And as rude nature yields her sway to man's opposing power, We see the dawning of the day that brings us to this hour. For, step by step and stroke on stroke, the work was carried on; No laggard, in that busy race, the prize has ever won. But change is marked on all below; each passing day is strange; . And looking back for sixty years, how great has been the change.
How few the sturdy pioneers that in this work begun; How few the hearts that swelled with pride, as each year's work was done;
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How few the eyes that shone with joy, and youthful pulses' beat, Shall gather with us here to-day, their old-time friends to greet. But on each hand, we see the work their industry hath wrought; The well-cleared lands, the happy homes, their patient labor bought. Fair as the vision of a dream, the land in beauty lics, But looking back, at memory's call its ancient forests riso-
The hills, the rocks, the wild-wood game that wandered far and free, The friends that'shared and cheered our toil, in memory we see -- All, all retur .. A moment, then, the present claims our care, And drifting from the present, we the future would lay bare. When sixty years bave set their seal on all we see to-day, How many, living now, shall greet that anniversary? Who of all those assembled here will meet on time's fair shore, And tell the tales that we now tell, of those long gone before? Though few may stay on this side heaven to see that other time, May we all meet to welcome them, in that celestial clime!
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HUMOROUS, POETICAL AND PROSE NARRATIVE, OF AARON PARDEE, ESQ.
Read at the Pioncer meeting.
My dear boys and girls, come and sit down beside me While I tell of the early days, things that I know. At the age of sixteen, a tall Yankee, they found me In Wadsworth, one morning, a long time ago. There were four of us, John, sister Julia, and mother, And John's wife and children, and Allen, my brother. John he drove one wagon, and Allen the other, And I drove two cows, and I think I drove slow.
We were two weeks in coming from old Onondaga, We stopped every Sunday, at noon, for a bite. Turned off before reaching the bold Cuyahoga, And in Tinker's Creek Hollow we stayed over night. On through the Old Portage, by Josh King's we came twining Our way round the hills, by old Henry Vanhyning. At length, just at night, while the sun was still shining, The house of Phin Butler, it just hove in sight.
This was in September, 1824. Butler married my sister Sally. They lived on the corner, where the road turns to Akron. The house stood on the south side of the stream, on Slanker's land now. Butler and Judge Pardee moved from New York State into Wadsworth, six years before, and Al went back to help us move.
For the next three years following, I think I was busy; I worked on a farm, and I planted and sowed. To think how I whirled round e'en now makes me dizzy, And though tall then as ever, I " specs that I growed." At all parties, and meetings, and gatherings you'd find me At evening, on horseback, with some girl behind me. I smile, and I weep, when old memories remind me Of the right arms around me those nights, as we rode.
I knew every boy and girl in Wadsworth then, and everybody else. Here at the Center, were Judge Brown's folks, Levi Blakeslee, and Hiram C. Kingsbury. We moved onto the Tim Hudson farm, now called Rasor farm. Samuel Blocker's folks were on the Yockey farm ; then old Jake Miller, and John Sprague. Next came, as you go west, Esq. Warner, Gus Mills, Stew Richards, and old
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Uncle Jed, Cul, Zeke, Mills, George, and Jule. (I believe they could all fiddle, that is the Richards's could). Then there was Capt. Cyrus Curtis, lived on the little stony knoll, this side of Western Star, and Col. Norman on the hill north. Henry Wright along the town line; then old Lysander Hard owned the Dague farm ; John Nesmith on the other side of the road. Capt. Lyman owned the Doo- little farm, but I think he was in Canton, teaching school, Uncle Ben Agard on the Laws farm; Judge Eyles, and Uncle Joe Loomis, and Orin and Abel Beach. Then there was Lewis Battison, Alvin Agard, and Lemuel North. Moody Weeks lived down in the hollow, since a part of the old Glasgo farm. Moody Weeks died in February, 1825 ; his funeral was the first I ever attended in Wads- worth. Then there was Peter and Leavitt Weeks, Tim Bennett, Jimmy and Nancy Spillman. Elder Newcomb, Richard Clark, Gurdon Hilliard and Robert, Ben Dean, and his father, Daniel Dean. Judge Pardec then lived on the farm now owned by Jacob S. Overholt, and Harry Mills between them and Butler's. Then it was woods, over to Ete Moody's and Ira's. Then old Abram Hard, old Dr. Smith on the Hanchett farm, Luthur Hemming- way, Tom French, "Spider Hanchett." Abel Dickinson, and Josh Shaw, where Benjamin Tyler now lives ; then, Chauncey Hart. Then you come over towards the Center, and you find George Beach and Sherman Loomis.
All the southwest quarter of the township was woods, except George Beach's farm, and David Biers's, who had a house opposite the house of O. Beach. Then, to come back into the southeast quarter, we find the Everhards, the Rasors, Christian, Cristopher (called Stofel). William, and George ; the Smiths, Jake Smith and Big Jake ; Samuel Hayden. the Falconers, Henry and Sam; William and Benjamin Simcox ; James Platt. and Reuben Warner : Platt lived just south of the depot, and Warner where the pine-trees stand.
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So now let's go back to the scenes of our childhood, Our youth, or our manhood, and log cabin home, With the small spot of clearing reclaimed from the wild wood Where the wild deer and wolf unmolested could roam. Dream on, dear old man, or dear lady, thy dreaming Gives joy to thy heart, on thy countenance beaming; Or, perhaps, may awaken those tears that are streaming Down the deep-furrowed cheek, for the days that are gone
The township of Wadsworth once shone in wild glory As she came from the workshop of nature, and God. The trees of her forests stood lofty and hoary, Giving shade to the soil where no white man had trod. But we took her, and gave her a thorough reforming; Her children are now her unrivaled adorning. We present them, all happy and smiling, this morning; Our jewels are here, in the image of God.
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MEMORIAL SERMON, BY BEV. E. BROWN.
Preached in the grove, Sabbath, May 31, 1874.
"That the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born; who should arise, and declare them to their children ; that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God; but keep His commandments."-Psalm Ixxviii : 6, 7.
The law of the universe is a law of progress, involving eternal change. Unchangeableness can reside only in infinity, and infinity can belong only to the Author of the universe. Hence, change is written upon all things.
All the researches of science are but discoveries of phe- nomena, or changes, that are ever taking place. Not even the landscape, seemingly the same in its features, can ever be pointed twice alike, or the swift beams of light stamp the same photograph twice, with the same features, the same lights and shades, with no variation. Nor is this con- fined to this world ; but the telescope and the spectroscope are continually recording the evidence written in the great book of the universe, that the Creator, through these changes, is forever working out his wonderful counsels.
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