Lake County Ohio GenWeb

1796 Western Reserve Centennial Souvenir 1896
pp. 83-100

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MOTHER’S THE DEVIL.—In a cabin home of

Trumbull County, resided, in the first decade of the

century, a family with numerous small children.

One autumn the father was absent trying to earn

something to carry them through the winter. The

best the mother could do to sate the hunger of the

youngsters, was to provide them with mush, made

from the glazing corn she grated, and milk. This

uniformity of diet became, like sixty or seventy

successive meals of codfish, to some people, very

unsatisfactory, and they raised a rebellion, but it was

no use. The good mother was doing the best she

could. Finally, one evening the children got

together at the side of the house for a discussion of

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the situation, and one of the boys, with a discernment

equal to that of a free silver statesman, solved the

question by exclaiming, “I know why we can’t have

anything better to eat. Mother’s the devil,” a sen-

timent applauded by the whole bevy of little folks,

whilst the mother sat – a listener—within.

It was in the same home, a little later, that the

mother had placed five of those kids in their trun-

dle bed, as was her custom, lying “spoon fashion,”

in order that they might be the more warmly tucked

in. One of them was a very nervous, fidgety fellow,

named Solomon. Little Sol kept rolling and

tumbling about and disturbing matters generally,

until the others, in their desperation, cried, “Mother,

mother, Tholomon won’t lie thspoon.” Few mothers

or children can comprehend the expedients resorted

to in those days in the various domestic relations, in

order to get along.

The spirit and aptness of the boy of the first

quarter of the century, is still fully manifest. In

one of our model lake shore villages but recently,

for purposes of mutual accommodation, the churches

arranged to have their holiday exercises on separate

evenings, beginning at the Presbyterian house on

Wednesday before Christmas. Thursday morning

three sprightly lads were overheard discussing the

matter in this wise:--

First Boy—“That was just a splendid Christmas

we had at the Presbyterian Church last night.”

Second Boy—There was no Christmas last night.

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Christmas is going to be at the Episcopal Church

to-night.”

Third Boy—Pshaw, I tell you Christmas wasn’t

last night and it won’t be to-night. It will be

to-morrow night at the Methodist Church. Our

superintendent says so.

Second Boy—“Humph, there are two skylights

in the seat of your breeches, and my mother don’t

allow me to play with any such boy.”

To show the way hot-bed processes, which are

becoming much too prevalent in Sunday School, as in

public instruction, are occasionally punctured, the

following is adduced. Some months ago when the

lesson was on John the Baptist, an over-zealous

mother in Trumbull County took many different

ways to explain to little Fred how the great Fore-

runner was disposed of, thus completely befogging

the childish mind. A day or two later, wishing to

test him, she called the boy and queried, “Well,

Freddy, how did they kill the Baptist?” Meantime,

the man with the horn-saw had operated upon his

father’s herd, to which Fred had been an eye

witness, and it had made a much more vivid impress-

sion on his mind than all his mother’s illustrations.

Studying a moment, he exclaimed, “O, mamma,

they dehorned him.”

HIS DESIRE WAS GRATIFIED.—The opening of

the Pittsburg and Ohio Canal, back in the thirties,

by way of the Mahoning Valley and Akron, so as to

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connect the Iron and Forest cities with a better

means of commercial intercourse than “teaming”

goods over the rugged roads, was an event looked

forward to with great interest, especially by the

citizens of Youngstown and Warren, and the first

trip over it was to be one of great jollification.

Among the especially enthusiastic citizens of Warren

was Dr. John W. Seeley, whose everyday expression

was, “I don’t care to live any longer than to see the

canal opened.” The auspicious day came, and with

it a “packet” loaded with happy Pittsburgers, and

others from Youngstown, and various points. At

Warren they were largely reinforced with Tods,

Smiths, Quimbies, Seeleys and others, and again at

Ravenna. Never before had such an opportunity

for jollification offered on the Reserve, and the very

best was “on tap.”

Reaching the Perkins’ town on the Cuyahoga,

they “locked” for a drink all round and a hand

shake with Akronians, in the midst of which

Doctor Seeley fell dead.

The news reached Ravenna the next day, when

the Presbyterian minister remarked in presence of

several gentlemen, “How very sad! I hope he was

prepared.” “He died happy, Parson, died happy,”

responded Judge Sloan, “he was full of devilish

good brandy.

A TEACHER’S EXAMINATION.—In the early

teens of the century there came to Braceville, Trum-

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bull County, from the East, a young man by the

name of Stearns, and engaged to teach a school in a

neighborhood called “Egypt,” on the confines of

Newton and Milton Townships, and, as the name im-

plies, widely known on account of then unen-

viable character of its inhabitants. The examiner,

one Doctor Bronson, resided at Price’s Mills. Be-

fore him Mr. Stearns presented himself for examin-

ation.

“Well, Mr. Stearns, you wish a certificate do

you?” queried the public functionary.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, Mr. Stearns, where are you going to

teach?”

“In Egypt.”

“Mr. Stearns, can you spell bird?”

“I think I can.”

“Let’s hear you try.”

“B-i-r-d,” stammered the applicant.

“That’s all right, Mr. Stearns; you will do to

teach school in Egypt.”

A certificate was made out, a quarter paid, and

the school in “Egypt” was a howling success.

Those were the days of “rate bills,” that is, the

State paid a small per cent. of the salary and the

other had to be collected, if possible, from the

patrons of the school, pro rata . This was frequently

slow in being paid. The writer has a claim of 62 ½

cents against the district at the center of Paris,

Portage County, dating back to 1843.

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SUCKLING TWINS.—Elisha Giddings and Titus

Hayes, two of the pioneers of Wayne, Ashtabula

County, held a contest with a she bear that had

seized one of their dogs and hugging him to

death. They finally killed her with an ax. On

looking about, they discovered a couple of cubs which

were taken home. Being neighbors and their wives

having young babes, and there being no pugs in

those days, the women concluded to add a couple

of pets to their family relations, and began a diligent

suckling of the young bruins. But it was no go. The

cubs languished under a purely human diet and soon

died, much to the grief of the aesthetic ladies.

                                    DAVID HART, WICK, O.

‘TWAS NO USE.—On the morning of November

13^th, 1833, a stage load of men, mostly from the East,

but including Judge Rayen of Youngstown, were

about starting from the little Mahoning valley town

for Cleveland on business connected with the pro-

posed canal, when the great fall of stars burst upon

their view. “O h—l,” exclaimed the judge, “there

is no used going, for the world is coming to an end.”

The phenomena was a wonderful one and scared

many people, among them some young ladies of

Braceville, who arose and dressed themselves, that

they might enter clad into judgement.

The judge’s prediction was no more fulfilled

than has been that of many a Millerite and Ad-

ventist since, but the canal came, only to give

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place to railroads for the “Iron City of the

Valley.”

A BEAR AND WOLF HUNT.—Some seventy

years ago, when I was a mere boy, the citizens of

Freedom, Portage County, and adjoining townships,

engaged in what was then known as the “Great

Hunt.” Freedom was then almost an unbroken for-

est, which extended even beyond its limits. Near

the center was a dense swamp of many acres,

furnishing a fine rendezvous for bears and wolves.

The depredations of these very much annoyed the

few settlers, a also those of Windham, Charlestown,

Shalersville and Hiram, surrounding townships.

To exterminate these pests, they agreed upon a

certain day, when they came with rifles, shotguns,

cowbells, tin horns and various other weapons, and

surrounded the great woods. I well remember how

they passed my father’s house in Charlestown, ring-

ing their bells and blowing horns to frighten the

animals, keep themselves in line and within proper

distance of each other, so no game might es-

cape. As they approached the swamp, the deer were

allowed to pass through the lines, but bears and

wolves making such attempt were shot down. Most

of these, however, sought safety in the swamp, where

twenty-three of the former and two score of the latter,

if my memory serves me, were killed, brought to-

gether and their scalps turned over to the authorities,

for the bounties offered.

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No bears were seen in the vicinity after that, and

the few wolves remaining did but little damage.

                                    S.W. JAMES, Ashtabula, O.

SOME PRIMITIVE WEDDINGS.—In “ye olden

time” of the Reserve, the weekly mail between Ash-

tabula and Warren was carried on horseback by a lad

named Platt R. Spencer, a poetical genius, afterward

famous as the originator of the Spencerian system of

penmanship. One morning in passing through Aus-

tinburg, he was hailed by “Priest” Cowles, as the

Reverend was ordinarily called, and requested to take

a marriage notice to the Western Reserve Chronicle,

the first paper started in New Connecticut.

“Whose marriage?” queried the boy.

When the names were given, “O, yes,” he ex-

claimed, I know; one’s Dutch and the other Irish,”

and place the paper in his pocket, rode on. Before

reaching Warren he took it out and, underneath the

notice, wrote: 

“Since Dutch and Irish can agree

To dwell in peace and harmony,

Let other people learn of them

How to respect their fellow men.”

Supposing this to be a part of the notice, it was

duly inserted with that document, and, on the

paper’s reaching Austinburg, the newly-wedded pair

became very indignant at the pastor until he was

able to explain the authorship, when their wrath was

turned upon young Spencer.

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Sometime prior to the Austinburg wedding, a

couple somewhere in the Cuyahoga country, but

whose names I have never been able to obtain, struck

up a matrimonial alliance, and, learning that upon a

certain day the “circuit rider” would be at a con-

venient point, agreed upon that as the proper time

for “tying the knot.”

According to this arrangement, the prospective

groom appeared on horseback, dressed in his best

suit of homespun, at the cabin of the would-be bride

who, arrayed in a neat “linsey-woolsey plaid,” seated

herself on the pillion, and, with arms around him,

away they went to become one. Making their way

along winding bridle paths and through forest,

guided by “blazed trees,” they had made about one-

half of the journey, when they were overtaken by a

severe storm. Alighting under a spreading tree, the

rain was soon dripping upon them through the foli-

age, whilst the lightning played about and the

thunder rolled overhead. The girl became fright-

ened, and both of them disconsolate at the idea of

not reaching the point of destination until the itin-

errant would be gone.

At this juncture, they were joined by a country

Justice, who, knowing the nature of their trip and

comprehending the situation, kindly suggest that

he could marry them right there and then and save

any further trouble. The thought was a happy one

and eagerly seized upon by the disappointed couple.

The lass dried her tears, the loving swain pulled

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down his vest, they joined hands, and whilst the

horses stood as witnesses, the rhythmical dispenser of

local justice and connubial bliss proceeded to make

the twin one flesh in the use of the following orig-

inal formula:

“Under this tree in stormy weather,

I join this man and woman together;

Let none but Him who rules the thunder,

From now, henceforth, put them asunder.”

The clouds lifted, the sun broke forth, the thun-

der rolled by, each party joyously went its way,

and another family was added to the rapidly increase-

ing population.

Tradition has put in my hands another wedding.

For its complete authenticity I cannot vouch, but

some points about it are so true to the life of those

early times, that it deserves preservation. The

Justice in the case was not so self-possessed, nor so

felicitous in the poetic use of language as the one

cited above, nevertheless, his zeal was commendable.

He had but recently been elected to the office, yet

had diligently applied himself to studying the Dec-

laration of Independence, the Constitution of the

United States, Washington’s Farewell Address,

Allen’s Conquest of Ticonderoga, and other similar

papers, in order to fortify his decisions, never even

thinking that he might have any gentler duties to

perform.

              Whilst thus preparing himself for court responsi-

bilities, he became one of numerous guests at a

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wedding where an itinerant was to officiate. The

company assembled, the hours passed, but no

preacher came and general uneasiness began to pre-

vail. Finally when the johnnycake was almost

cold, the venison fried to a crisp, and the sassafras

tea had simmered till the pot was nearly dry, some-

one bethought himself that a Justice of the Peace

was authorized to perform the marriage ceremony,

and, forthwith, the father of the bride called on

‘Squire Jones to go ahead. At first he declined

but finally, yielding to the general pressure, con-

sented.

      All things were soon arranged, and standing

before the blushing couple, the justice, after care-

fully clearing his throat, began. “When in the

course of human events it becomes nec--.” Here

the ‘Squire suddenly stopped, and , looking around,

perceived a kind of quizzical expression pervading the

countenances of all who had already passed through

the connubial loop, whilst a look of expectancy

rested upon the faces of the gay young people gath-

ered around. For a moment he collected his

thoughts, which centered on one great organic law,

then again began, “We, the people of the United

States, in order to form a more perfect government,”

but here his utterance became choked, great drops

of sweat collected upon his brow, which he wiped

off with his coat sleeve, and, amid a surpressed titter,

looking up, the benign countenance of the “Father of

his Country,” in picture, on the wall, seemed to smile

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down upon him, and in faltering accents he began

again, “Frien—friends and fellow cit-cit-citizens,

the pe-pe-period for a new e-election--.” This he

perceived was a non sequitor, and silence profound,

oppressive, for a moment reigned. The ‘Squire was

first white, then, livid. Biting his lips in mortifica-

tion, the then new and popular motto, “Don’t give

up the ship” flashed through his mind, and profit-

ing by an undertone suggestion from someone near,

he directed the parties to join hands, and summoning

all his latent energy of memory both the Declaration

and Ethan Allen came to his rescue and in a bold

tone he went forward, “For the support of this

Declaration, and with a firm reliance in Divine

Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our

lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor,’ and, ‘in

the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental

Congress, ‘ you are man and wife.”

      “Good as wheat,” cried the newly-made father-

in-law; “mother lets have supper;” and, in the

enjoyment of the primitive viands, ‘Squire Jones’

embarrassment was soon forgotten.

      SOME CHANGES.—Time has wrought changes in

everything. A few instances will illustrate. For

many years, the village of Poland was a place of note,

leading Youngstown in everything. Indeed, the

valley town was looked down upon in more ways

than one by the enterprising village on the hill.

Did a circus or menagerie come along, it stopped at

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Poland and the Youngstowners climbed the hill to

see it. It was so political speeches, Fourths of

July, and everything. Poland was in the lead.

With the coming of the canal and railroads, all was

changed, and Poland is known, only, as a quiet coun-

try village, whilst Youngstown is cited throughout

the land, on account of her industries and schools.

      Perhaps the most remarkable change of the kind

on the Reserve will be found in comparing Cleve-

land and Kelloggsville, Ashtabula County. Whilst

Cleveland was struggling with the ague and adversity,

Kelloggsville was enjoying a boom. The Kelloggs,

the Woodburys and other citizens were men of

energy. Several distilleries had been put in opera-

tion and dry goods stores started. Teams loaded with

grain came in from every quarter, three or four

hotels being required for their accommodation.

Whilst things stood thus, back in the teens of the

century, a Mr. Smith came on from the East, looking

for a location. He was highly pleased with the

bustling village, the more particularly as some sixty-

two teams sought accommodations the night of his

arrival. But he had started west with Cleveland in

his eye and would go there before deciding to invest.

He found the Cuyahoga town “quiet as a duck

pond,” and tarrying only over night, returned and

made large investments at the town of distilleries.

Mr. Smith is dead, Cleveland is the metropolis of

the third State in the Union and Kelloggsville is a

dry town.

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      If our legislative Solons could see the changes

that have come over the practice of medicine in the

past seventy-five years, as well as those in bonnets

and hats, they would spend very little time in fooling

with either. Bleeding, calomel and “nanny tea”

used to be the great specifics. Seldom does a physi-

cian resort to them now. Is it because of the hard

raps of quacks? A single illustration must suffice.

When a lad, I used to play with a little brother and

sister, the only children of a neighboring family.

They were taken down with the measles and our kind

old family doctor from Seville was called and he

poured in hot “nanny tea” to drive the measles out.

Several days passed, but no effect from the tea or

any other of his prescriptions. All this time the

children were asking and beseeching cold water

which the Esculapian strictly forbade. Finally, one

morning he announced to the afflicted parents that

the children must die. He had exhausted medical

science on their case, and gathering up his saddle-

bags, he bade them a sympathetic good-bye. As

soon as he was gone, the father said, “Well, mother,

if the children must die, we shall have to give them

up, but they shall not die pleading for water,” and

going to the well, he brought in a pitcher of which

they drank almost voraciously. In fifteen minutes

the measles began to show themselves, and the

children soon recovered. A thick scale fell from the

old doctor’s eyes, and the children of that region

had to drink “nanny tea” no more. Scales have been

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falling from the eyes of the profession ever since.

Doctoring as practiced fifty years ago would not be

tolerated for a moment to-day. Then, what shall we

say of fifty years hence. The changes referred to

are only such as have been going on, on every hand.

X rays are omnipresent.

      AN EARLY SENTENCE.—Judge Tappan was one

of the first to hold a court in Trumbull County,

then comprising the Western Reserve, Warren being

the only county seat. The judge was a remarkably cross-

eyed man, indeed, distressingly so. One of the

earliest sessions, a June term, was held in a new

barn. The floor was extemporized for a court room

and the stable was planked up, served for a jail. One

day the judge was administering a severe reprimand

to someone convicted of a petty crime, when a man

back in the crowd, and badly under the influence of

liquor called, “That’s right, give it to him, old gim-

let eyes.”

      “Who’s that disturbing this court?” queried his,

Honor, looking about.

      “It’s this ere hoss,” replied the man, holding up

his hand.

      The judge at once perceived the state of affairs,

and, turning to the sheriff, said: “Mr. Sheriff, trot

that hoss off to the stable and keep him there until

he can appreciate the virtue of Mahoning water.”

He then calmly pursued his reprimand, whilst the

“hoss” was quietly led off to the extemporized

lockup.

C.S.—7

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A PRIMITIVE SCHOOL MEETING.—Braceville,

Trumbull County, was settled early in the century.

About 1807, some eight or ten families concluded

they must have a school, and a meeting was called

for an evening early in September, to be held in a

little “slashing” at the center. At the appointed

time the paters familias convened and lighted a brush

heap. Then it was discovered they had no whiskey,

and so important a thing as founding a school could

not be thought of without something to imbibe. A

committee of two was therefore appointed to go to

Leavittsburg, some four miles away, for a gallon of

“rye.” This committee returned about midnight,

when the meeting was organized by appointing an

uncle of mine, Stephen Oviatt, chairman. After a

drink all round, they began to plan for the school.

Amid alternate planning and drinking, it was re-

solved to meet on a given day, cut logs, and erect a

schoolhouse. By the time this conclusion was

reached, daylight was just beginning to tinge the

east, the moon was setting in the west, and, the

whiskey gone, the chairman arose, swung the jug

about his head and, smashing it upon a stump, de-

clared the first school meeting ever held in Brace-

ville, adjourned.

At the appointed time, the building was erected

and served as both schoolhouse and church for

nearly twenty years, the celebrated Lorenzo Dow

preaching in it at least once.

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PIONEER ACCOUNTS.—In these days of business

colleges, typewriters, daybooks, journals, ledgers,

and a score of other things connected with keeping

accounts, the methods of the fathers are well cal-

culated to cause a smile. They were very simple,

sometimes unique. Accounts among farmers and

mechanics were mostly written with chalk upon the

walls and doors of their cabins or shops. Merchants

kept their books in a way that would baffle a modern

expert. Books were valid witnesses in court then, as

now. I well remember the way things were “chalked

down” in my own boyhood home and in that of the

blacksmith shop in which our work was done. But

a few examples must suffice to elucidate.

A merchant in Sheffield, Ashtabula County, failed

and an accountant, appointed to examine his books,

soon became bewildered by the varied characters he

found. Among other things that baffled him, was

the frequent recurrence of a small circle, occasionally

having a dot in the center. Finally the merchant

was called on for explanation and evinced his con-

tempt for experts by exclaiming, “Any fool ought

to understand that. The circle means cheese; with

a dot in the center, grindstone.”

A few miles from Warren, resided a man who

carefully kept his accounts engraved with keelstone

upon the walls of his home. In the course of

human events, his wife died, and, after due sorrowing,

he mated again. Wife No. 2 was one of that

can’t-have-a-fly-speck-about-the house sort of wo-

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men, and one day shortly after installment in her

new home, whilst husband was away, she gave the

walls a thorough cleaning. When he came home

and saw the bright clean logs and his happy wife,

he exclaimed, “O, my dear, you have ruined me!”

“How is that?” queried the thoroughly alarmed wife,

“I have only cleaned the marks off the walls.”

“Those were my accounts for work.” “O, I’m so

sorry,” responded the wife, “I didn’t think the

marks were of any use. But can’t you put them

down again.: “I don’t know, but I’ll try,” replied

the husband, and keel in hand he went to work.

When at length he ceased, the anxious spouse again

queried, “Well, have you got them all right now?”

“Well,” replied the honest man, “I don’t know as

I’ve got them quite all, but what I have, are against

better men.”

In a lawsuit in a justice court in an early settle-

ment, one of the parties was ordered to present his

account. Going home, he lifted the door from its

hinges and backed it into court, and, by the evidence

thus adduced, gained his case.

One hundred pages now we count,

A century has run;

The statements tally in amount,

The SOUVENIR is done.

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            FROM

DIXIE TO CANADA.

This is a 12-mo., 200-page volume, printed on

heavy paper, illustrated, and tastily bound in

muslin. The book is descriptive of the manner in

which Fugitive Slaves were helped across the

country to Canada, or to places of safety in the

North over the so-called………………………

UNDERGROUND RAILROAD,

“Where no one heard the whistle

      Or the rumble of the cars,

As the darkies rode to freedom

      Beyond the stripes and stars.”

PRICE, - - - - 75 cents.

       -----------

THE TYPICAL ITINERANT AND COMPANION POEMS, a

32-page booklet, price 10 cents.

CONCERT GEOGRAPHY, a 40-page booklet filled with

choicest definitions and rhythmical recitations of great value,

price 10 cents.

WESTER RESERVE CENTENNIAL SOUVENIR, price, pa-

per, 25 cents; cloth, 50 cents.

------------

AGENTS WANTED EVERYWHERE

-------------

Any of the above books sent on receipt of price. Address,

                                                H.U. JOHNSON, 

                                                            Orwell, Ohio.

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WHAT THEY THINK OF DIXIE.

             -----------------

Dear Mr. Johnson: Your volume on the Underground

Railroad has been received and I have read most of it. It is

full of interest and you certainly know how to tell a story well.

                                                Sincerely yours,

                                                            J.C. BASHFORD,

                                                            Pres. Ohio Wesleyan University

Dear Bro.:--Your book came all O.K. I enjoyed it very

much.                                      J.C. ROCKHILL, Los Angeles, Cal.

Dear Sir and Comrade:--I am reading your book “From

Dixie to Canada,” which I saw advertised, and sent for. I am

intensely interested, as I am a child of the Underground Rail-

road. I wish every child in the land might read it and learn

something of the unwritten—the inner history of his country,

that which historians have so far ignored.

Yours, in F., C. & L., M.H. PETERS, Watseka, Ill.

“From Dixie to Canada” is the outgrowth of years of re-

search into one of the most remarkable features of history,

the so-called Underground Railroad, over which fugitive

slaves were helped across the country to Canada, or a place of

safety in the North. It is unique—tragic.—Ohio State Jour-

nal

The Underground Railroad has at last a chronicler in the

person of Rev. H. U. Johnson, of Orwell, O. His “From

Dixie to Canada,” is a most interesting recital of the escape

and flight of slaves in old ante-bellum days. Those of us who

served as trainmen or conductors on that mysterious thorough-

fare thank him for the graphic pictures he has drawn. They

will be a revelation to our children’s children.—Cincinnati

Christian Advocate.

            The “underground railroad” was a famous institution in

its day. It served a great purpose. By it many slaves went to

liberty. The story of those stirring times and events are

 vividly recalled in this book. From it the children can learn

of the things which occurred in the days of slavery, and how

noble-hearted men and women of the North helped the poor

slave to his liberty. It is full of interest.—Pittsburg Chris-

tian Advocate.

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POPULAR LECTURES

            The attention of Schools, Churches, Institutes and So-

cieties is called to the following, among the subscriber’s many

lecture entertainments:

            The Royal Road to Manhood, Platform.

            The Temperance Question, Platform

            The Hits of Moses, Platform

            From Dixie to Canada, Illustrated

            The Worlds About Us, Illustrated

            Through Palestine, Illustrated

            The Pioneers and Their Grandchildren, Illustrated

            Uncle Sam, Illustrated

                        --------------------------