Ohio History Journal

152   OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

several falls as I carried my transit on snow-covered ice, and

I have pulled briars and poison ivy out of many a fence

corner.

I have been asked if I have had any experiences with snakes.

To tell the truth, I never gave them a thought as I waded through

thickets or searched for lost corners. Perhaps I have been for-

tunate. Poison ivy and jiggers never seemed to annoy me.

Before the country roads were improved, transportation was

almost unbelievably difficult. I used to do a great deal of driving

with a two-horse rig. When the roads were too bad for a four-

wheeled vehicle, I did some traveling in a cart, and sometimes I

went on horseback. I well remember the difficulty I had in get-

ting to a remote place in the Guyan Hills back of Crown City.

From Gallipolis to Crown City I went by river on the old Carrie

Brown. My client met me with horses. I mounted, put the transit

on my shoulder, and we started out. The road was so bad that

the horses would have to leave the beaten track and pick their

way along the fence.

My predecessor as county surveyor was William R. White,

father of Judge Ross White of the Gallia County bench. Mr.

White had quite a reputation for ability in finding old corners.

At that time many of the original bearing trees were still stand-

ing. Locating the tree or its stump with the original marks gave

one a feeling of assurance about a corner. Now, of course, those

old marks are not nearly so numerous.

Mr. White used a Randolph compass. I purchased a Gurley

transit, probably the first to be used in Gallia County. Most of

the bearings at that time were from the magnetic needle, with an

attempt to allow the proper variation from true north. Now most

of the bearings are determined by sighting back along the line

just run and turning the angle, a practice that Mr. White called

"backlashing."

Use of the needle is not much in practice now, except as a

check, but I should like to say that forty years ago I had some

excellent results with magnetic bearings. With careful chainmen

I have been able to run the exterior lines of a "forty" through

timber and strike my initial point in the final run.

REMINISCENCES OF A COUNTY SURVEYOR          153

The "field notes," records made by the old surveyors, are of

great assistance in retracing old lines. Written laboriously, after

the work was done, they form a part of the indispensable records

of the county.

The first surveyor who had entered extensive notes in the

books was Reuben Rothgeb. Mr. White told me that he had

great confidence in Rothgeb's surveys, and I also found evidence

of their accuracy as I retraced some of the lines.

Rothgeb was considered an agnostic. In his will he directed

that a monument setting forth his beliefs be erected to his

memory. There was great objection to the inscription, and the

matter was fought out in the courts.  It was decided that the

monument should be erected, but the inscription omitted, and the

large bare stone is still standing near Addison.

Following Rothgeb the surveyors were Henry Grayum, Ed

Shepard, James Gardner, and William R. White.

Mr. White told me how he happened to study surveying.

He lived at Rodney and followed the blacksmithing craft and

taught country school. Once when Mr. Gardner was surveying

at Rodney he was asked to sight along the section line that

formed one boundary of the White farm. It was a small job,

Mr. White averred, but the fee was five dollars.  Seeing that

money might be so easily made as that, Mr. White straightway

took up surveying himself.  It was better, he thought, than

blacksmithing or teaching.

Five dollars was the fee for a day's work for the county,

and in the 'nineties it seemed to be good pay. But there was no

regularity about it. And a day was often long and fatiguing.

Moreover, I have done a number of days' work for which I re-

ceived very little, and sometimes no pay at all.

Until 1915 the county surveyor received no salary, but was

paid by the day for work performed. During my first term

there was little official work.  I did serve as a member of the

board of review in the land appraisement of 1890. The other

members were County Auditor Wayne Kerns, and Commissioners

Frank Coughenour, W. H. Clark, and Dan J. Davis.

Besides the land appraisement work, I would occasionally

154   OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

survey a road, or run a farm line.  The total pay from public

and private work was small, so I resorted to my old occupation

of teaching. When official duty called I would hire a substitute

for my school.

During my second term, agitation became intensive for the

building of turnpikes. The people traveled dusty roads in sum-

mer, and in winter drove their horses through such slush and

mud that cleaning the plaster off the animals was a great chore

after a trip was over. Everyone wanted better roads, but there

was a difference of opinion as to the wisdom of the investment.

The papers were full of letters, pro and con. Many were afraid

that road building would make the taxes too heavy.

The demand for turnpikes became so vociferous that the

county commissioners had to take some action. In 1890 I made

a preliminary estimate of cost.  Finally the commissioners de-

cided to put the question to a vote, and in 1892, with three men

appointed as turnpike commissioners, I surveyed about a hundred

miles of the main roads and prepared an estimate as a guide to

intelligent voting. The election came in the fall of 1893. The

vote was very close, but turnpikes won by a majority of about

fifty. In February, 1894, I received a telegram ordering me to

begin work on the turnpikes, so I had to resign my school and

make the plans for eight or ten miles of road.

In that road-building program the first consideration was

keeping the cost low. Roadbeds were to be twenty feet wide and

the pavement ten feet. The surfacing was to be gravel, or stone

and gravel, or sandstone base with crushed limestone top. By

present-day standards, my estimates were very modest,

averaging about $3,000 or less per mile, some of them for gravel

construction being only about $1,800. But a great many people

thought the estimates of cost were shockingly high.

Nowadays standards are much higher, and roadbeds and

pavements much wider. Costs vary widely, running from $5,ooo

to $50,000 per mile.

Lawrence County had had experience building turnpikes, so

Jim Edgerton of Ironton came up for a few days to help me get

the plans started. Later I had other assistants. Mr. White did

REMINISCENCES OF A COUNTY SURVEYOR         155

some of the work. In all, in the decade of the 'nineties, Gallia

County built about one hundred fifty miles of graded and sur-

faced roads. The result, financially, was that the county, whose

tax duplicate was small, became heavily bonded.

The people were ignorant of the necessity of maintaining

the roads after they were built.  The idea prevailed that once

constructed a stone-surfaced road would be permanent.  The

people said, "Let our children pay for the roads as they will have

the benefit of them."

When the road-building was in full swing, I was very busy,

surveying during the day, drawing plans at night. Some people

didn't understand why a survey was necessary.  Many who

thought I needed to go over the road once were mystified when

they saw me working on it again to get the levels. They would

ask "Why are you surveying the road again?"

My aim was always to give as good work as possible for

the taxpayers' money. I didn't loaf on the job, and I couldn't

endure to see others on the payroll slighting their work or idling

their time. Often I would spend all day on a survey, and then

work at my office on the plat, or grade, until late at night. My

light was a flickering, artificial gas jet high overhead. For these

really double days I never asked, nor received, extra compensa-

tion.

But though I exasperated my family because I could never

be depended on to show up at a regular meal time, neither my

digestion nor my eyes appeared to suffer. Perhaps it was because

I was interested in what I was doing and got a great deal of

exercise.  Often I would put my transit on my shoulder and

walk to my work. A transit is not a light instrument. Once, I

remember, I was preparing plans for a section of road about

nine miles from Gallipolis.  Starting early in the morning I

shouldered my transit and walked to the site. Arriving at the

scene of work, I walked two miles farther to get a helper, there

being no telephone.  We worked hard until nearly dark (I

have often had to use matches or a lantern to finish up a job.)

and then I walked a mile and a half to the place where I was to

stay all night. Next morning it was snowing, but I was on the

156   OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

road early. We didn't stop for lunch. Finishing up about three

o'clock, I put the transit on my shoulder and trudged those nine

miles back to Gallipolis.

You may ask why I didn't hire a rig. The county wasn't

paying my expenses.  Besides the road was almost impassable

for a buggy and I was a good walker.

The county commissioners were my superior officers. The

members then were Dan Miller, Joe Thompson, and James Hunt.

Jenkin W. Jones was county auditor.

The commissioners were not technically trained, of course,

but they were reasonable men, and I got along with them pretty

well, though we sometimes disagreed.  I always tried as tact-

fully as possible to persuade them to accept my views.

The construction was performed by contractors, most of

them local men who had decided that they were qualified to

direct men in the use of tools and the moving of materials. Natu-

rally some of them were and some were not. There seems to be

an inherent knack or "eye," the possession of which will enable

a man to build in a neat and workmanlike manner, the lack of

which will make his best efforts seem amateurish.  Contractors

are generally honest, but supervision is always necessary. One of

the greatest difficulties is in making a grade smooth and even.

There is always the temptation to leave cuts high and fills low.

The excuses were varied.  Once I called a contractor's atten-

tion to certain places where his roadbed was less than twenty

feet wide. His answer was, "But some places are wider, so it

will average twenty."

That was long before prohibition, and the drinking of some

of the contractors caused me annoyance. They would lose their

customary good nature and become over-friendly, or quarrelsome.

One of them, a very intelligent man when sober, always became

foolish when he had been drinking.  He took the "cure" and

seemed to be reformed.   One day he came out on the road,

acting queerly, and I feared that he had broken over. When I

asked how he was, he replied, "Not very well. I've been

drinking."

"I'm sorry," said I.

REMINISCENCES OF A COUNTY SURVEYOR          157

"The very birds in the air are sorry," he answered.

In 1898 I planned and supervised the first brick pavement

in Gallipolis. The condition of the streets was deplorable. Every

fall the city council would dump river gravel on the streets. Dur-

ing the winter this material would become thoroughly soaked,

and after the spring thaw and the rains, it would become a deep

slush that would have to be hauled away.                        Finally it was seen

that something would have to be done.                            The city and county

agreed to cooperate in laying a brick pavement on Fourth Avenue

and Pine Street, a distance of about a mile and a quarter.

This type of surface was different from that with which I had

been working.  I took particular pains, and personally inspected

the brick.  That pavement gave very good service during more

than thirty years, and my connection with it has always been a

matter of satisfaction to me. Pine Street was rebuilt a few years

ago.  Fourth Avenue has recently received some repairs, using

the original brick.

The law of 1915 gave the county surveyor a salary and the

responsibility of being resident engineer for the State Highway

Department. Consequently I had the pleasure of being connected

with the new construction period that was just beginning.  The

new high-grade roads were, for the most part, on the line of the

old turnpikes that had been built under my supervision.  Com-

paratively few changes were made in grades and alignment.

More recently, for high-speed traffic, the alterations have been

much more extensive.

A great deal of my surveying has been for private individuals.

I have run new lines, retraced old lines, measured city lots, laid

out subdivisions which the proprietors hoped would become cities,

surveyed cemeteries, and done a little work in coal mines, some-

times in veins so thin that I had to take my transit off the tripod

and mount it on a box.

It is remarkable how limited are the ideas of the ordinary

person in regard to surveying or to the surveyor's transit. I have

been asked if I were taking a picture of the line. Intelligent

people have inquired if my transit recorded the acreage of a tract

as I sighted along the exterior lines.

158   OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

"What will it cost to have my farm surveyed?" is the usual

question.

"That depends on how long it will take," I reply.

"Oh, you'll have no trouble; it's a north and south line."

I can never rely on the client's estimate of the difficulty of the

job. Often the north and south lines, run in the old days by the

magnetic needle without allowance for the proper variation, are

hardest to retrace.

Gallia County has fifteen townships. The eastern ten, though

only about three-fifths of the area, are in the Ohio Company's

Purchase, and have a bewildering variety of subdivisions, sections,

"fractions" of 262 acres, and "lots" of various sizes.  Some of

the 100-acre and 160-acre lots are a mile to two miles long, and

only five or six hundred feet wide.  The intent was to divide

the river bottom so that each member of the Company would

have his share of the good as well as the hill land.

The five western townships are called "Congress Lands."

Their subdivision into sections, each one mile square, and quarter

sections, is simple. A section is 640 acres, and a "quarter," of

course, 160 acres.

In this one county, therefore, are examples of two stages in

the evolution of the method of dividing the public lands.  The

simple system of division into townships, sections and quarter sec-

tions proved so admirable that it was adopted for all the vast

domain of the West. Ohio served as the laboratory, as Professor

C. E. Sherman points out in his Original Ohio Land Subdivisions.

The life of a land surveyor has its pleasures, its hardships,

its vexations, and even its temptations. Once I measured a farm

which had been deeded as 200 acres, but I found that the previous

surveyor had measured off only 157 acres.  That was rather a

large mistake.

Early in my surveying career I was retained by a man who

had bought a certain number of acres of timber from an estate.

He had me run a winding line, in and out, to take in the best

trees. When I had enclosed the tract I had more than seventy

sides from which to compute the area by the double meridian dis-

tance method. The computation was laborious. I worked on the

REMINISCENCES OF A COUNTY SURVEYOR          159

problem about half a day, only to find that I had not taken in the

full number of acres. We had to run some more lines to enclose

the best of the remaining timber.

A legal survey is one made by the county surveyor or his

deputy, with due notice to owners of adjacent property.  One

spring a woman insisted that I make a legal survey of her 40-acre

tract. I was very busy, but finally set the day so that the notices

could be delivered. Then my client made the startling suggestion

that if a certain house should "happen" to fall on her side of the

line she would not only pay me for the work but would also make

me a present of twenty-five dollars. I informed her emphatically

that I would locate the line to the best of my ability, but that I

was not "throwing" surveys for presents. I went to Crown City

by boat, drove over the hills in a hired rig until the harness gave

out, walked a mile or two carrying my instruments, found a

lodging place, engaged helpers, and put in, all told, about three

days' hard work. The house, while near the line, proved not to

be on the land of my client.  She was in a fury, and ordered

me to return to the job and do the work over. I told her if she

wanted the line run again to get someone else to do it. She never

paid me for my time and expense.

In a boundary dispute feeling often runs high. The losing

party may think the surveyor has been bribed. At times I have

had hesitancy in going to the house of either party for a meal

or lodging, lest the other might think I had been unduly influenced.

I have noticed friendliness turn to coldness and suspicion.

The importance of proper legal steps in a transfer of land is

understood, but the need for a clear and accurate description of

the property, a matter that is fully as important as the other, is

not generally appreciated. The descriptions of land in deeds are

sometimes fearful. I remember one deed whose inadequacy must

have been realized by the writer, because, after the uncertain

boundary had been described, this sentence was added: "This

piece of land is in the shape of a smoothing iron."

A deed is sometimes viewed with awe and guarded jealously.

Once when I was surveying a 400-acre farm, I came to a contigu-

ous tract of an acre or two. I sent one of the helpers to the house

160   OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

on the small property to borrow the deed so that I might check the

description. Word came back that I couldn't see the deed, but I

might buy the place for three hundred dollars.

If a surveyor has surveyed a farm or lot to the satisfaction

of the owner the verdict will be, "He's a good surveyor." A per-

son who is not pleased over the location of the line will hold the

opposite opinion.

Sometimes luck enters into the making of a favorable im-

pression.  In the land appraisement of 1890, one of the ap-

praisers got me to survey the lot of school section no. 16 in Mor-

gan township. We ran a whole mile along that section, and when I

told the flagman where to place his rod in the last sight he put it

squarely on the stone that had been set at the corner forty years

or more earlier. "A good job," said the appraiser. As a matter

of fact, the survey would have been just as good if I had missed

the stone a rod, for I could have moved all the marks over in

proportion.

A great deal of surveying has to be done in cold weather

when the leaves do not interfere. Many times I have been so cold

that I could scarcely steady myself to look through the telescope.

Once on a road survey, as I bent over the transit to read the

vernier my breath froze my mustache to the instrument and I had

to call on one of the commissioners to release me.

All in all, in spite of its vexations, surveying is interesting

and healthful. It is important, as it is the foundation of all con-

struction and, in its determination of boundaries, the arbiter of

property ownership.