Ohio History Journal




INDIANS IN UNION COUNTY

INDIANS IN UNION COUNTY.

 

 

BY COLONEL W. L. CURRY.

 

In 1797, before a white settler had found a home in the tract

of country now forming the county of Union, a town was laid

out on a large scale in what is now Darby Township, on the south

side of Big Darby Creek, by Lucas Sullivant, who named it North

Liberty. Doubtless Mr. Sullivant expected his town would at

some not distant day be a busy metropolis, but he ruined its

prospects by laying out in August of the same year (1797), the

town of Franklinton, on the west side of the Scioto River, op-

posite the subsequent site of Columbus.

The honor of being the first settlers in the county is awarded

to James and Joshua Ewing, and it is said that Mr. Sullivant in-

duced them to locate at North Liberty in order to begin the set-

tlement at that place, and if such was the fact, which is probable,

it must have been as late as the fall of 1797 or the spring of

1798. The latter year is given by the best authority as the date

of their arrival.

Union County was then included in the territory comprising

Ross County, of which Chillicothe was the seat of justice.

At the time the earliest settlers took possession of their

farms in this region, Indians were numerous. They lived farther

north and only descended to Big Darby to engage in hunting and

fishing. They encamped here and often remained for several

months at a time. The site of North Liberty was one of their

favorite tenting grounds. When the war of 1812 opened, appre-

hensions of trouble with these Indians were entertained, but they

remained friendly and no hostilities or difficulties arose to mar

their peaceful relations. Some of the rougher class of settlers

were on intimate terms with the Indians and would go to their

camps and join in the convivial feasts that were held there. The

children of the earliest pioneer were for a time in mortal dread of

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them, and it required a long time before they could become ac-

customed to their presence.

James Robinson had one of the earliest orchards in the

vicinity, and after the trees approached the age of bearing, he

was greatly annoyed by the birds that had a strong liking for his

choice fruit and manifested the design of indulging their appetite

before it was ripe enough to pluck. Some Indian lads, belonging

to several families encamped near by, were very expert in shoot-

ing birds with their small bows and arrows, and Mr. Robinson

agreed with them, by means of signs, that for each bird they

would shoot in the orchard he would give an apple. It happened

that the following day was Sunday, and as Mr. Robinson, who

was a devout and God-fearing Presbyterian, was engaged in the

usual morning prayers, the Indian lads rushed in with a bird they

had killed. The conscientious pioneer could not tolerate the idea

of profaning the Sabbath by this unhallowed sport and by shak-

ing his head and gesticulating, intimated to them that they must

not engage in it that day. They departed highly incensed, think-

ing he had withdrawn from his agreement, and after the old folks

had gone to church that day the Indian youths amused themselves

by pointing their weapons at the children left at home, who fled

to the house for protection and remained within with bolted

doors till their parents return.

When the troubles of 1812 had commenced, it was several

times rumored that the Indians had taken up arms and were pre-

paring to make a raid upon the settlement. Many families, panic-

stricken, deserted their homes and fled farther south.  At

one time, a party of settlers, including Moses Mitchell, then a

lad of sixteen years, fearlessly marched to the Indian villages far

to the north to ascertain if they had concluded to put on the war

paint and make the rumored attack. They found the Indians

sitting in council, but with no hostile intent. The band of whites

remained with them all night, then returned to their friends and

quieted their fears. Game of various kinds abounded in the

forests for many years after the work of clearing and tilling

farms began. A favorite mode of hunting deer was the follow-

ing: In the low country along Big Darby, mosquitoes were as

great a pest to beast as to man, and in warm weather, to escape



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Indians in Union County.             265

them, the deer descended into the water after nightfall, and re-

mained there for hours at a time with only the nose above the

water. The hunter approached in a canoe, a torch or candle

fastened to his hat and by bark so placed as to light up the sur-

rounding gloom but conceal himself and his canoe from sight.

He thus approached within a few feet of the deer, dazed by the

light, and easily killed it.

On the north, south, east and west were yet to be seen the

rude wigwams of the dusky race that theretofore had held un-

disputed possession of this game-abounding country. Their num-

bers, for many years, greatly exceeded that of the whites, and

their presence was at least novel to the settlers, if not dread-in-

spiring. Many of the young children of the first comers could

not conquer a shrinking horror in their sight, for the Indian name

was to them, by oft-repeated tales, too intimately associated with

dreadful massacres to permit them to overcome their fear of

them. The Indians, observing this, would delight in brandishing

their knives and frightening the boys and girls, who would always

run in terror from them. The principal haunt of the red men,

before they were disturbed by the pioneers, was on the banks of

Big Darby, just northwest from Plain City. They dwelt here in

considerable numbers about the year 1800, in wigwams built of

bark and covered with brush. Their chief subsistence was game,

although the squaws cultivated small patches of corn. This latter

commodity, however, when desired by the Indians, after the ad-

vent of the pioneers, was usually obtained by begging, or in ex-

change for products of the chase. On the old Kent farm, on

Sugar Run, was a sugar camp, where the Indians for many years

engaged in the manufacture of delicious syrup for their own con-

sumption. They hacked the trees with their tomahawks and in-

serted split spiles, caught the flowing sap in hewed out troughs

and boiled it down in kettles of iron or copper. Parties from

Chillicothe were wont to meet them here, and barter for large

quantities of raccoon skins and furs.

Amicable relations were generally maintained with the In-

dians, who seldom gave cause for difficulties. These, however,

would occasionally occur. Daniel Taylor, who was one of the

foremost pioneers, brought with him a mare and colt. A party



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of Indians were once visiting at his house, and one of them espied

and greatly admired the mare; he wished to buy her, but Taylor

was unwilling to make the sale, as it would break his team, and

another horse could not be procured nearer than Chillicothe.

Jonathan Alder, who was present, and observed the Indian's

eagerness, advised Mr. Taylor to sell "the critter," but this he

would not consent to do. Not many days later the horse was

stolen and never recovered, and the trip to Chillicothe Mr. Taylor

was obliged to make on foot.

James Ewing brought the first sheep to this county. He

kept them confined within a high inclosure, through fear of the

wolves. Several Indians, who had been hunting, called at his

cabin soon after. Their dogs jumped over the fence and attacked

the sheep. Mr. Ewing, in his anger, seized his rifle and shot one

of the dogs. This act enraged the Indians, and a breach of the

friendship between them and Mr. Ewing was imminent. Jonathan

Alder was present and interposed. His efforts at peace-making

at length restored good feeling.

Jonathan Alder, who was captured by the Indians and be-

lieved his life was spared because his hair was dark and because

he smiled at the savage who had raised his tomahawk to kill him,

lived within the bounds of Union County at the time he aban-

doned his Indian life and returned to his home. With other In-

dian braves, he dwelt on the west banks of Big Darby just above

Plain City.

His cabin stood on the high bank above the grist mill. When

he came to this place is unknown, but he was living there with

his squaw wife when the first settlers arrived. Until 1795, when

the Indian treaty restored peace, he was engaged with his Indian

comrades in various depredations and hostile excursions and it

was probably very soon after this that he settled on Darby. As

the pioneers arrived, he mingled with them and relearned the

English language, which he had almost forgotten. His squaw

cultivated a little patch of corn in the bottoms and Jonathan dealt

to some extent in stock. The land he occupied belonged to the

tract Daniel Taylor had purchased, and, when the latter arrived

about 1803, Jonathan kindly surrendered to him the cabin he

had built and occupied, and with his squaw built and removed to



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a bark hut close by. His association with white men created a

strong desire to follow their habits and abandon his Indian life.

His squaw still clung to Indian ways and their diverging tastes

became more and more marked. Jonathan no longer went with

his Indian brethren on their "big hunts." From a settler, he re-

ceived the information that his mother was still living, and he

resolved to return to her. Richard Taylor made him a suit of

clothes which he donned in place of his Indian garments. He

told his squaw his intention and they divided their effects. The

wild life he had led had not wholly obliterated the instincts to ac-

cumulate, for he had saved a few hundred silver dollars, and had

besides a number of ponies. The former he gave his wife after

some parleying and also equally divided the latter with her. He

bade her adieu; she went northward to her own people and he

turned his face toward Virginia, the State of his birth and boy-

hood. This was in 1805.

His squaw wife had separated from him unwillingly, for in

spite of his proclivities for the fashions of the pale face, she was

deeply attached to him. It is said she had threatened to kill his

wife should he ever marry again, and that he feared her on this

account. For some time after his return, he would not permit

his wife to remain alone in their cabin. When he went to the

fields to work, she must accompany him. On their return one

day from a trading expedition to a neighboring town, they found

the tinware bent and cut, the iron ware broken in pieces by an ax

and Mrs. Alder's dresses slashed and cut in shreds. Though the

squaw was not seen, the mischief was attributed to her hands.

Mr. Alder's long life with the red men had bred in him Indian

traits and manners, which clung to him through life. Though he

possessed good business talent, he disliked hard work, and con-

fined his farm labors principally to stock-raising. He was dark

hued and bore some resemblance to the Indian race. He was a

large, tall man and could move about almost noiselessly. While

living in Union County he was the friend of the white men, and

when occasion offered acted as peacemaker between them and

the Indians. Mr. Alder related the following hunting incident

which occurred while camping on Darby, in Union County: "One

day about noon I saw a large bear in the top of a big, white oak



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tree, picking off and eating acorns. I sat down on the ground

about one hundred yards off to watch its motions. I did not wish

to kill it, as bears were not yet fat, and fur was not yet good, or

rather not of full growth. I sat there amusing myself with its

motions for some time. It was really funny to see it get about

in the very top branches, while the whole tree shook with

its enormous weight at every motion. All at once it ceased

to gather in the branches and slid down and commenced picking

the acorns that had fallen to the ground. In a few moments,

without the least warning, it started in the direction I was, as

rapidly as it could pace. I had my gun resting in my lap and

saw it would run right over me. I had no time to get up and get

out of its way, so I raised my gun and fired as soon as possible,

when it was within a few yards of me. I shot it through the

brain and it fell right across my lap. I was badly scared, for I

did not know that I had killed it. I kicked and struggled to get

from beneath it, but it was so heavy that it took some time be-

fore I could get out. I had shot it so dead that it never kicked,

but laid like a log upon me, all of which, had I not been so

frightened, I might have observed. When I finally got out, I was

so much exhausted from the fright and effort I could hardly

stand."

A company was organized at Plain City, during the summer

of 1812 or 1813, of which Jonathan Alder was elected Captain

and Frederick Loyd First Lieutenant. They were directed to

march north toward the lakes about twenty miles beyond the

settlements of Darby, and erect a block-house for the protection

of the settlements. They marched to the banks of Mill Creek,

and after working three or four days a block-house was com-

pleted. Mr. Alder says: "There were seventy in all, and one

Daniel Watkins was made Colonel and Commander in Chief."

They only remained at the block-house a few weeks. There

being a false alarm, it was not possible to keep the men from

returning to the settlements. This block-house was situated on

the west bank of Mill Creek, about three miles northwest from

Marysville on the farm now owned by Edward Powers. Some

of the stones used either for the foundation or to strengthen the



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Indians in Union County.             269

walls of the block-house may yet be seen directly east from Mr.

Powers' house, a few rods from the banks of the creek.

Thomas Kilgore, who died at the residence of his son,

Simeon Kilgore, in Mill Creek Township, a few years ago, was

a member of the company that erected this fort, and was the last

one left of the company.

So far as can be learned, this is the only fort ever erected

within the borders of this county.

During the war of 1812 there was scarcely an able-bodied

man left in the settlement along Darby Creek and Sugar Run,

and their families were in constant fear of being massacred by

the Indians.

In 1812-13 Col. James Curry, a soldier of the revolutionary

war, was called to Delaware to assist in organizing a regiment of

soldiers in which his oldest son, James A. Curry, was a Captain,

leaving his wife with several small children, the oldest of which

was but eleven years of age, in the cabin on the banks of Sugar

Run, with no neighbor nearer than John Kent and family, one

mile distant through the dense forest. One day, during Col.

Curry's absence, the horses were attacked by the wolves, and

stampeded with such a noise as to make Mrs. Curry believe the

Indians were going to attack their home. Young Stephenson,

then but a boy of eleven years, but with the coolness of an old

backwoodsman, took down the two rifles, and, loading one, placed

his younger brother, Otway, as a sentinel at the fence, in rear of

the cabin, and while he attempted to load the other, the charge

became fastened in the barrel. The two boys stood on guard

for some time, ready to meet the invasion of the red skins. When

night came on, they, with their mother, went to John Kent's house

and spent the night. The next morning, on their return with

some of the neighbors, they found that the wolves had attacked

the horses, badly injuring one of them, but that no Indians, or

traces of them, were to be found. One of the old, flint-lock rifles

used on this occasion is still in possession of W. L. Curry, son of

Stephenson Curry.

Otway Curry became a noted writer and poet and, associated

with Wm. D. Gallaher, edited and published "The Hesperian of



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the West" prior to the year 1840, which was the first literary

magazine published in Columbus.

Sugar Run Falls, on the lands of Col. James Curry, was, in

the early days, a beautiful and attractive place. The stream

wound its way through a little valley, shaded by burr oaks and

black walnut timber, and, surrounded as it was by good hunting

and fishing grounds, it was a favorite place for the Indians in

the early years of the last century. The old Indian trace, leading

from the Wyandot nation south, ran past the Falls, and the In-

dians continued to travel this route after there was quite a settle-

ment along Sugar Run.

The last Indians who visited this vicinity came about the

year 1816-17. In the early spring, four Indians came from the

North, and encamped at the Falls for a few days. They visited

Col. Curry's house, and, as usual, were supplied from his table,

as he was well known to all the Indians passing along this route,

and he was one in whom they had great confidence. When they

left the Falls they separated, two following the old trail and two

traveling in a southwesterly direction. In a few weeks, two of

them again reached the Falls, and had with them an Indian pony.

They remained a day or two, and their two companions not ar-

riving (it is supposed this was to be their place of meeting), they

then stripped the bark from a burr oak tree, and, taking yellow

keel, which was in great abundance along the stream, traced on

the trunk of the tree in rude characters, an Indian leading a pony,

while another Indian was in the rear with a gun on his shoulder

and the ramrod in his hand, as if in the act of driving the pony,

traveling northward. This done, they covered their camp fire and

took the old Indian trail north. A few evenings after their de-

parture, their two comrades arrived from the south, and, learning

by the drawings on the tree that their companions had preceded

them, they remained over night and the next morning took the

trace and moved rapidly north. And thus the last Indians ever

seen on the southern border of Union County took their de-

parture from their once happy hunting grounds.

A few traces of the pre-historic race still remain, but they

are becoming fainter every year. In the valley of Big Darby are

two small mounds, both of which are sepulchral. One of them



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is on Zachariah Noteman's farm, north of his residence. It is

about thirty feet in diameter, and by repeated plowings has been

greatly reduced in height. A few years ago it was excavated.

Two kinds of earth were observed, and ashes and charcoal were

found. Six or seven human skeletons were exhumed, one of

which was of remarkable size. The other mound is farther up

the stream, north of it, on the old Ewing farm, situated probably

twenty rods from the creek. It, too, was excavated some time

since, and human bones were discovered.

Human skeletons have been found in many of the gravel

beds that abound along the streams of the township. They are

supposed to have been the remains of the Indians who frequented.

the country. It was not uncommon for the earliest pioneers to

find silver brooches. They were of various sizes, either round or

heart-shaped, and had evidently been worn by the Indians. Some

were several inches in diameter, and handsomely wrought, but

they have all been carried away by the curiosity seeker. Flints,

stone weapons and the badges of the Mound-Builders, have fre-

quently been found in some localities.