Ohio History Journal

The Black Hand.                   445

summit of perhaps the third of an acre covered principally with

pines, laurel and moss. It is circular in form except on the

south, where it presents to the river a face about two hundred

feet in length, rises to a height of fifty feet, and, arching from

a point some distance above its base, overhangs the stream about

fifteen feet. This is the Black Hand rock.

At some period in the distant past these cliffs, united,

formed an impassable barrier to the stream, for-an old channel

turns abruptly to the north on the west side of the Black Hand

rock, makes a circuit, and returning cuts straight across the

present channel at a distance from its point of departure of only

the width of the rock itself, and bears away southward in a

narrow, rock-bound course. This old channel resembles in shape

a horseshoe, bounded continuously on its outer side by a rocky

ledge, and holding between its points the Black Hand rock.

This outer rim of rock reaches the present channel of the river

with a face of about two hundred and fifty feet, with a height

slightly greater than that of the Black Hand rock, and forms the

final barrier to the entrance of the stream in its present course to

the valley beyond. It has been named by present-day visitors,

the Red Rock. At some more recent date the stream must have

been diverted from this old channel into its present course.

The peculiarity of formation adds greatly to the interest of the

place, and from the standpoint of the geologist has been convinc-

ingly treated by Professor Wm. M. Tight, president of the Uni-

versity of New Mexico, in Bulletins of the Scientific Laboratory

of Dennison University.

When the Central Ohio railroad was built, it followed the

natural grade along the south bank of the Licking. When the

twin cliff opposite the Black Hand rock was reached, a cut

was made through it, so that the traveler by the Baltimore &

Ohio is hindered by this from a distinct view of the Black Hand

rock. An electric line from Newark to Zanesville now passes

along the north bank of the river within a few feet back of the

Black Hand rock, and tunnels through the Red Rock. By such

a pleasant and convenient mode of access it is probable that the

Black Hand will be visited more frequently by pleasure-seekers

than heretofore.

The Black Hand.                   447

On the face of this isolated cliff the earliest settlers found

engraved the figure of a large human hand. Authorities differ

as to the size of the hand and the direction in which it pointed.

The weight of evidence supports the statement that it was twice

the normal size, with the thumb and fingers distended and point-

ing to the east. It appeared to have been cut into the face of

the rock with some sharp tool, and it is probable that the form

became dark in time through natural agencies. In 1828, when

the Ohio canal was under construction, the river throughout the

extent of the narrows was converted into slack-water and made

a part of the canal by constructing a dam a few hundred yards

east of the Black Hand. It was necessary to blast away part of

the Black Hand rock in order to make the towing-path. In doing

so the Black Hand was removed. From the earliest settlement

to the present, the origin and purpose of the Black Hand have

been subjects of interesting conjecture, and the effort to account

for them has given rise to many legends.

The Legends of the Black Hand.

These which follow have been written by Dr. R. E. Cham-

bers, of Chandlersville, Mr. H. C. Cochran, of near Newark,

Mrs. David Gebhart, of Dayton, and the Hon. Alfred Kelley, of

Columbus.

In a paper by Colonel Charles Whittlesey, entitled "Archaeo-

logical Frauds," he locates the mound, from which the Moses or

Commandment Stone was said by David Wyrick to have been

taken, two miles east of Jacktown and south of the National road.

Residents of Newark who knew David Wyrick personally, and

are familiar with all the facts assure me that this is correct. In

the valley cast of the Red Rock, and a few hundred yards dis-

tant, is a circle about two hundred feet in diameter, with an

opening to the northeast, and with a small mound in the center.

Southwest from the circle, near the river, is evidence of a fire-

pit. Old residents tell me that arrow-heads and flint chips were

formerly  abundant in and about this circle. These, aside from

the figure of the hand, are the only evidences of Indians, Mound

Builders, or other prehistoric inhabitants in the neighborhood

of the Black Hand. The statement of these facts, I hope, will

The Black Hand.                  449

doubtless be a matter of regret to everyone that the railroad

has recently changed the name of the station, and the brakeman

no longer calls out Black Hand, but Toboso. It is to be hoped

that commercial as well as historic interest will induce the new

electric line to perpetuate the name of Black Hand.

In a beautiful introduction to her legend, among other

things, Mrs. Gebhart says: "The Indian legend pertaining to this

relic of a prehistoric race was told me by Colonel Robert David-

son, who settled in Newark in 1808. There were many Indians

there at that time, and from them he doubtless heard it. They

lingered long in the vicinity. I remember being carried in his

arms, probably about 1835, to see the party who had erected

their wigwams and camped in the public square at Newark. I

remember with especial distinctness, one squaw who carried a

papoose, Indian fashion, on her back.  Its black bead-like

eyes seemed to view me as curiously as I on my part viewed it

from that coign of vantage a father's protecting arm."

Hon. Alfred Kelly was one of the canal commissioners under

whose supervision the canals of Ohio were made. He probably

heard the legend while engaged in this work. His rendering

has never been published. A manuscript copy is in the pos-

session of his daughter, Mrs. Francis Collins, of Columbus, who

has kindly consented to its publication here.

THE BLACK HAND.

R. E. CHAMBERS, M. D.

Some time during the fifties, articles appeared from time to

time under the nom-de-plume of "Black Hand."  These were

devoted to a history of the "boys and girls of 1826." They were

pleasing and readable, and were very lavish in extolling the at-

tractive traits of character that adorned the developing woman-

hood and manhood of that period.

At the conclusion of his article he asks the question, "Who

put that hand on the rock ?" or who painted the hand on the rock?

- for it had the appearance of having been painted.

Vol. XIII-29.

The Black Hand.                  451

To give what I thought was the best solution to a question

of so much interest, I was disposed to use the find of David Wy-

rick and a friend, who had taken advantage of a removal of a

large mound for the stone and dirt it contained by the B. & 0.

railroad, a work of our prehistoric citizens of a time we know

not of. David Wyrick and his friend, who had been deeply inter-

ested in this mound in the years past, and as to what it might con-

tain, determined to explore to a greater depth than the removal

of the accumulations by the railroad.

They were not long in striking a rock in their descent and

finding it was single and elongated continued their work until

they uncovered it. They found the top was of the character of a

slab, which on removal revealed the skeleton of what was once

a human being. While decomposition had been perfect, the mould

of the covering over the remains gave evidence of fibers as if

the body had been clothed with a woolen garment. They re-

moved the stone coffin and found beneath it a stone of a foot

and a half in length, that gave evidence of having been sharpened

and upon handling it they found that it contained something

in its interior. They, with some trouble, opened it, finding in-

side a stone twelve inches long and four inches wide and an inch

in thickness. It had a neck broken off, in the end was a hole. This

gave evidence of having been worn as if a strap had been inserted

and it was carried in this way.

They were much astonished to find engraved on one side an

outline or profile of a man in the dress of a Hebrew and on the

other side characters which they could not make anything out

of. Living in Newark, and having knowledge of the Episcopal

minister as a man of fine education, they went with it to him,

and he took the stone and was greatly astonished to find that the

characters were Hebrew. He said he would see if he could read

or decipher it. He did so. Calling to his aid his Hebrew works,

he was able to translate nine commandments, one was left off.

Fearing that his translation was not correct, and having

a knowledge of Rev. Matthew Miller, of Monroe township, this

county, who was at that time at his home from New York, where

he had been laboring in his efforts to convert the Jews, and

The Black Hand.                  453

tablet, that was as a guide to their faith, and then put the hand

on the rock, pointing to the place of his burial.

THE MINGO CAPTIVE AND THE WYANDOT MAIDEN AND

THE NEUTRAL GROUND.

H. C. COCHRAN.

An Indian sat at the door of a settler's cabin and told this

story: Many years ago the red men in the eastern part of the

state were at war with those in the middle and northwestern part.

Chief among the former were the Mingos, and among the latter,

the Wyandots. In one of the stealthy and bloody incursions

into the Mingo hunting grounds, a young chief of great promise

was captured and carried back by the Wyandots. Instead of kill-

ing the young Mingo chieftain, as was the usual custom, he was

made a serf and compelled to earn the good-esteem and fellow-

ship of his captors, a fate worse than death to the young Indian.

The woes of his captivity, however, were lightened by the kindly

attention of a young Wyandot maiden, the daughter of the chief

of the tribe into which the Mingo had been adopted. Genuine af-

fection knows no condition, or it rises above all environment. The

maiden fell in love with the unfortnate young chief, and though

watched by the crafty tribesmen, they made their affection known

to each other and decided to fly to the Mingo country. One

night they made their escape. At daylight they were missed

and were pursued by a posse of Wyandots. The girl had left

behind a tribesman lover, who burning with the passion of a

disappointed lover, and aching for vengeance traveled faster

than the couple and overtook them at Black Hand rock. They

heard the pursuers behind them, knowing that worse than death

awaited them if captured. With the stoicism of the savage, they

walked to the edge of the precipice and surveyed the flood. Fold-

ing the idol of his heart in his arms, he sprang into the boiling

waters. The pursuers were close enough to see the last chapter

of the drama. The narrator says the disappointed pursuers

marked the spot as the Caucasian found it.

The other legend, one worthy of perpetuity, is born of the

geology of the country and the trade conditions of the aboriginees.

The Black Hand.                  455

the rock was in mute appeal and forcibly reminded the wayfarer in

a way at once forcible, as it was poetical, that thus far and no

farther should the waves of unglutted vengeance roll. The hand

marked the portal of a sanctuary which was sacred to the

savage, whose lust for blood rose above every other considera-

tion in his narrow but intense, isolated but eventful life.

THE CHIEFTAIN WACOUSTA, THE YOUNG LAHKOPIS, AND

THE MAIDEN AHYOMAH.

MRS. DAVID GEBHART.

"An unremembered Past

Broods like a presence, midst

These cliffs and hills."

Many moons ago, long before the pale face came across

the Great Water to this land, here upon the bank of the Pataskala,

was the lodge of the great chief Powkongah, whose daughter

Ahyomah was fair as the dawn and graceful as the swan that

floats on the lake. Her eyes were soft and shy as the eyes of a

young deer, her voice sweet and low as the note of the cooing

dove. Two braves were there who looked upon her with eyes of

love, and each was fain to lead her from the lodge of her father,

that she might bring light and joy and contentment to his own.

At last said the chief, her father, "No longer shall ye contend for

the hand of Ahyomah, my daughter. Go ye now forth upon the

war path, and when three moons have passed see that ye come

hither once more, and then I swear by the Great Spirit that to

him who shall carry at his belt the greatest number of scalps

shall be given the hand of Ahyomah, my daughter."   Three

months had waxed greater and grown less ere the warriors re-

turned. Then, upon the day appointed, behold, all the tribe gath-

ered to view the counting of the scalps. First stepped forth Wa-

cousta, a grim visaged warrior, who had long parted company

with fleet-footed youth, and walked soberly with middle man-

hood. From his belt he took his trophies, one by one, and laid

them at the feet of the chief, while from behind the lodge door

Ahyomah, unseen by all, looked fearfully forth upon the scene.

With each fresh scalp the clouds settled more and more darkly

The Black Hand.                   457

thyself be beaten by the cunning right hand of a boy! Disgraced

thou art, and no longer shalt thou be numbered among the

members of my frame." And the hand clung to the rock and

turned black, and spread and grew until it was as the hand of

a giant; and while the chief, Ahyomah and the tribe stood silently

watching the wonder, the defeated warrior wrapped his robe

about him, spoke no word of farewell, and striding swiftly into

the dark depths of the forest, was seen no more by man.

THE BLACK HAND.

HON. ALFRED KELLEY.

Have you ever seen the place where the murderer's hand

Had instamped on the rock its indelible brand,

A stain which nor water nor time could efface?

'Tis a deep lonely glen, 'tis a wild gloomy place,

Where the waters of Licking so silently lave,

Where the huge frowning rock high impends o'er the wave,

On whose pine-covered summit we hear the deep sigh

When the zephyrs of evening so gently pass by.

Here a generous savage was once doomed to bleed,

'Twas the treacherous white man committed the deed.

The hand of the murderer fixed the imprint,

'Twas the blood of the victim that gave the black tint.

A captive in battle the white man was made,

And deep in the wilds is the victim conveyed,

Here far from his kindred the youth must be slain,

His prayers, his entreaties, his struggles are vain.

The war dance is treading, his death song is singing,

And the wild savage yell in his ears is a-ringing.

The fire for the torture is blazing on high,

His death doom is sealed, here the white man must die,

The hatchet is raised, the weapon descends,

But quick an old chief o'er the victim now bends.

The hatchet he seizes and hurls to the ground.

He raises the youth and his limbs are unbound.

"My son fell in battle," exclaims the old chief,

"But ye saw not my sorrow, tho' deep was my grief,

458      Ohio Arch. and Hist. Society Publications.

And now shall the white man to me be a son,

'Tis your chief that has said it - his will shall be done.

A friend and a father to him will I prove,

And me as a father and friend shall he love."

Long years had passed by, and peace had again

Spread her soft balmy wings over mountain and plain,

The red man and white man in friendship now meet,

For the hatchet is buried deep under their feet.

Long years had rolled on, while the chief and his son

Rich spoils from the forest together had won.

Now loaded with furs from the far distant lake,

The path to the traders together they take.

Through the Narrows of Licink their pathway extends,

Around the huge rock on its margin it bends,

Where the shelf on its face scarce admits them to creep

Along the dark front that impends o'er the deep.

The chief, with fatigue and with age now oppressed,

In the shade of the rock seeks a moment of rest;

Here, lulled by the waters, he closes his eyes,

While his spirit communes with his friends in the skies.

By his side the false white man now silently knelt,

And carefully drawing his knife from the belt,

With one deadly plunge of the murderous steel

Reached the heart full of kindness -a heart that could feel.

Then quick in the river the Indian was thrown

Lest the tale should be told, lest the deed should be known.

Oh! the shriek that he gave as he sank in the flood,

As the waves eddied round him, deep-stained with his blood.

0h! the glare of his eye as they closed o'er his head,

While with hoarse sullen murmur they welcomed the dead.

Rock told it to rock, oft repeating the sound,

While shore answering shore still prolonged it around.

That look and that sound touched the murderer's heart,

With phrenzy he reeled, and with shuddering start,

His hand, while still reeking, with madness he placed

On the rock, and the blood-stain could ne'er be effaced.