CHAPTER III.
OHIO—PROFESSIONS: MEDICAL, MINISTERIAL, AND LEGAL.

“The subject of practical education has occupied the attention of every enlightened nation, and has ever been one of intense interest to the reflecting portion of this country. It has been a universally-received axiom, that the foundations of a republic must be in the information of its people.”[9]

In the general desire for knowledge and a steady advancement in the things pertaining to civilization the professions were in harmony with that honesty, simplicity and zeal which constituted the foundation structures of pioneer society. The doctor, the clergyman and the lawyer occupied respectively their inviting fields, and each became alike interested in the ever new book of nature, and read aloud the wonders of the New World. The calling of the physician was not very remunerative. He seldom refused to obey a call for reason of the inability to pay. Still, he had but little to do. It was not fashionable to send for a doctor and have the temperature taken for every little indisposition. The people, from instinct or circumstances, had great faith in Nature as a healer. They discovered that persons recovered from most all diseases; and that cool spring water and a little catnip or bone-set tea served to amuse the patient to a satisfactory termination quite as well as the visits of the physician.

And, it would appear, the doctors were generally honest enough to encourage this reasonable confidence to so great an extent that the good physical inheritance required very little medication; and many pioneer fathers and mothers reared large families of children without the loss of a single member, as well as without having a doctor called for any occasion whatever. And the rate of mortality remained astonishingly low until the innovation of “cross-roads” medical colleges, and proprietary nostrums received the patronage of the public.

The great danger in a free country of the learned professions being made up of evil, ignorance and corruption, gave timely warning to the medical men of Ohio, who, with the aid of the legislature, endeavored to protect the growing community against quacks and mountebanks.

The state was divided into districts of several counties each, in which censors were appointed and duly qualified “to faithfully perform and impartially discharge their duties as censors” in the examination of the qualification of applicants to practice medicine and surgery. A certificate of qualification from the Board of Censors was insufficient of itself to entitle the holder to practice, and required a license from the court of common pleas, certified by the secretary of the medical district, and placed on record in the county in which the applicant proposed to practice medicine and surgery.

The following forms were used:

“CERTIFICATE OF QUALIFICATION.

SEAL

State of Ohio,
Medical District No. 3.

To Whom It May Concern.

“These presents certify, That Giles S. B. Hempstead, of Portsmouth, in the county of Scioto, appeared for examination, and is found to be duly qualified to practice physic and surgery.

“In testimony whereof, I, President of said Board, have hereunto set my hand and affixed the seal of said Board at Marietta, this, the fifth day of November, 1818.

E. Perkins, President.
Columbus Bierce, Secretary.”

“LICENSE.

“Know all men by these presents, That I, ——, President of the Second Circuit Court of Common Pleas in the State of Ohio, by the authority in me vested, do license Giles S. B. Hempstead to practice physic and surgery within this state.

“In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and official seal of the County of Scioto this, the twenty-third day of November, A. D. 1818.

SEAL

__________________________
President Court Common Pleas.

“I do hereby certify the above to be a true copy of the license granted to Giles S. B. Hempstead.

Columbus Bierce,
Secretary Third Medical District.

Each medical district kept a record of all certificates and licenses issued within the area designated for public inspection, that all might know who were qualified to assume the responsibility.

The censors and members licensed composed a list of the learned and able men of Ohio. Almost every one licensed brought with him a certificate of qualification from state censors of some state east, which was copied into the records kept by the censors in Ohio.

These “Diplomas” were quite similar in character and expression, the following being a fair sample:

“DIPLOMA.

“We, the President and other officers of the Incorporated Medical Society of Dutchess County, in the State of New York, having received from our censors full assurance of the competent knowledge of Columbus Bierce in the theory and practice of medicine, and from Doctor John Cooper and others, his former preceptors, the like assurance of his standing and moral deportment, do by the powers vested in us confer upon him, the said Columbus Bierce, license to practice physic and surgery and midwifery in any part of this state, and recommend him to the confidence of our fellow-citizens, and the friendly attention of our brethren, as a person of good morals and liberal attainments.

SEAL

“In testimony whereof we have subscribed these presents with our names and caused our seal of incorporation to be annexed.

“Done at Poughkeepsie, this, the 15th May, A. D. 1816.

John Thomas, President.

“Attest: John Barnes, Secretary.

“I certify the above to be a true copy from the original.

C. Bierce,
Secretary Third Medical District, Ohio.”

The censors and society of the third district met semi-annually, alternately at Athens and Marietta, and the place of meeting was generally at the residence of some citizen, who volunteered in advance to entertain the doctors. An applicant for a certificate or license to practice medicine was required by law, to file with the Board of Censors a certificate of good moral character and a fee of ten dollars.

A diploma from the censors, approved by the court in the county where the practitioner resided, entitled the holder to a membership of the medical society in his district, auxiliary to the state society. Any member failing to attend a semi-annual meeting subjected himself to a fine, notwithstanding many were obliged to ride horseback more than two hundred miles to make the round trip. The attendance of these meetings, as the records show, was good, and the proceedings compare favorably with those of the present day.

Among the standing resolutions, members were “requested to exhibit specimens of indigenous medicinal plants for inspection,” and “Dr. S. B. Hildreth to procure and keep on hand at all times genuine vaccine matter, and to furnish the same to members of the society on their application and payment therefor.”

At one of these semi-annual meetings the following met unanimous favor, viz:

Resolved, That each individual member of this society, at the next meeting, furnish in writing an account of such remedies as are known and used by the people in their several vicinities, not hitherto generally employed by the faculty.”

The import of this resolution was of much more significance than it would seem at the present time. Then, domestic medicine, or use of indigenous plants, by a poor and sparsely inhabited country, was general for diseases incident to locality. And to receive written statements on the subject from various parts, covering a large portion of a great state, by men of science, constituted an instructive record in diseases, remedies and results.

Another resolution seems to have been adopted as the rule of the society, “to report all accidents requiring surgical interference.” This may have been from the fact there has always remained a suspicion of the dual character of things coming under the law of accidents, and from which probably originated the saying that “trouble never comes singly.” This dual character of odd occurrences has been noticed, and noted more frequently by physicians and surgeons, perhaps, than by those of any other calling.

This may not have been uppermost in the mind of the Doctor when he announced to the society that he wished to report two unusual cases of “stuck balls” that came under his notice at the same time, happening to two squirrel hunters in the same neighborhood. A young man after squirrels, became confused in regard to the order in which the loading materials should be used, and put the ball down first. The ramrod, however, was provided with a remedy for such loss of memory, and the screw in the end of the rod was firmly fixed in the body of the ball; but no adequate force seemed at hand to withdraw the ramrod, as the end projecting beyond the muzzle was so short the operator was obliged to apply force by means of the teeth. After making many unsuccessful efforts a happy thought seemed born with the necessity, and he felt assured if he had the ball once started it could be withdrawn. On this theory he worked just enough powder in at the “touch-hole” of the “priming-pan,” as he judged, to give the ball a slight impetus in the right direction. And with the end of the ramrod between the teeth, and great toe upon the trigger, applied full force, adding that of the powder by means of the toe, which, to his surprise, lost the ramrod and left an ugly looking hole in the neck at the base of the skull. Treatment for gunshot wound—recovered.

The other “stuck ball” was caused by a lad of German extraction failing to close the “priming pan” to his flint-lock before loading, and consequently the powder nearly all went out at the “touch hole” as the ball was pushed down the barrel. Enough, however, remained with the “priming” to drive the ball about half way out. At this point it remained fixed, and the amateur gunner could neither get it out nor push it down.

Like a dutiful son, reverencing parental wisdom, returned to the house with the gun, and gave a statement of the facts. After being equally unsuccessful in the removal of the obstruction, the father looked carefully over the make of the gun, and said, in bad English: “Shon, oh, Shon! did you cshoot de gunne mid a zingle drigger ur mid de double drigger?” John replied that it was shot with a single trigger, which so enraged the father that he disremembered the commandments, and with irreligious prefixes declared any fool might know, to shoot a double-triggered gun “mid a zingle drigger, the ball would go only half way out.” The case was considered hopeless.

These short reports bear the only appearances of matter for levity that the writer has found in looking over volumes of manuscript proceedings of the biennial meetings.

At a subsequent meeting of the Medical Society, in 1819, an accident is given, as stated, “not for the surgery there was in it, a simple fracture of the left clavicle, but on account of the odd manner in which it occurred and the instructive sequel. The patient was but recently from New York City, an estimable young man, but not versed in the ways of the Western world,” ... “A squirrel he killed lodged in another tree on its way to the ground. The branch that held the unfortunate animal was an offshoot of an ancient sycamore which had in some past age of the world been broken off about thirty feet from the ground; but, like most sycamores, it was not willing to give up the ghost, and threw out incipient branches along the remaining section of the trunk; and at the top or point of fracture a crown of short limbs adorned the mammoth stump. It was one of these top branches that held the squirrel.

“After failing to dislodge the animal by the usual methods, he went up the tree, and on the top of the stump he found a good place to stand and bring the game in reach above his head. In the act, the decayed wood on which his feet were placed gave way and let the hunter down to the base, in a dark tube, six feet in diameter, without door or window, and no possibility of returning by the opening he entered.

“As soon as he recovered from the shock, and took in the situation, he began making voice signals of distress; but the caliber of the horn of his dilemma was too large and long to be blown effectually by an excited and injured asthmatic. He did, however, the best he could, thinking if those on earth could not answer his prayers, ample facilities had been obtained for being heard from above.

“Fortunately a fisherman had not proceeded far up the river before he heard groans of distress, that seemed to come from the water beneath his boat, and badly frightened, pulled ashore. Still the muffled cries of human distress were unceasing, and apparently in all directions among the trees—soon a man was located imprisoned in the interior of a sycamore. Friends were notified, axes procured and the hunter relieved, who gave many thanks, requesting that nothing be said about it.

“He soon recovered from the injury and to show there is no disposition in the human mind so universal as that which ‘locks the stable door after the horse is stolen,’ long after, his friends smiled but said nothing, as they looked upon a hatchet suspended to his hunting belt.” And circumstances make it highly probable that no one connected with those meeting with the accidents named, were in any way related to the enrolled men of renown, known in history as the “Squirrel Hunters of Ohio;” all are not Jews that dwell in Jerusalem.

Doctors were mostly hunters, consequently the hunter was not necessarily an ignorant man, still, in a population of many thousands, the exceptions might have appeared quite numerous. As a rule he became a man of extensive information, and hunted, not as a primitive Darwin-tailed quadruped “making a struggle for life with a club,” yet it was to supply the necessities of existence all the same. Subsistence was, however, easily obtained, and did not tax much of his time, and he had abundance of leisure to devote to experiment and observation. He was a worker in the vineyard, with the naturalist, geologist, botanist, biologist, archæologist, etc., and the aggregate co-operative labor accomplished became manifestly incalculably great. With object lessons daily before him, in due time he became familiar with the habits, instincts, intelligence and peculiarities of beasts, birds and insects, as well as acquainted with the geology, mineralogy and botany of the district in which he resided. Nothing escaped observation, from a spear of anemone to the spreading oaks of the forest. The names of all beasts, birds, plants and minerals with characters, habits and qualities could be given by the accurate and extensive observers and investigators who were found among resident squirrel hunters.

Hunter and Dog.

The man with dog and gun could answer all questions; was the only encyclopedia the collector had to consult; the formulator of scientific facts desired no other, could ask for no better. The Doctor in early days, was a man of science and literary attainments. And his avocation brought him in contact with the hunter and his valuable collections, observations and investigations, and in this way became the safety deposit of facts relating to natural history and collateral branches; in fact, the medical profession constituted a small army of zealous collectors and investigators—such men as Doctor Ezekiel Porter, president of the first medical society in Ohio; Doctors Eliphas Perkins, John Cotton and Samuel P. Hildreth, of Washington County; Doctors Ebenezer Bowen, Chancy F. Perkins and Columbus Bierce, of Athens County; Doctors Robinson and James S. Hibbard, of Meigs; Doctors Felix Reignier and J. G. Hamlin, of Gallia; Doctor Giles S. B. Hempstead, of Scioto; Doctor Alexander M. Millan, of Morgan; Doctor Joseph Whipple, of Hocking; Doctor Joseph Scott, of Madison; Doctor Ezra Chandler, of Muskingkum; Doctor Jared P. Kirtland, of Cuyahoga, and others equally well known and respected in other parts of the country and who were equally identified with the history of the state.

To Dr. Samuel P. Hildreth we owe the first extended and connected account of the geology of the Ohio Valley. His published notes on the salt springs and interesting observations on the coal deposits, with descriptions of the rocks, fossils, organic remains, illustrated by drawings of plants and shells, constitutes one of the most comprehensive documents that has ever been made of the geology of the state. And it was through his influence the legislature took steps for a geological survey, which was ordered March 27, 1837, with a corps composed of doctors chiefly—Professor W. W. Mather, Dr. S. P. Hildreth, Dr. Jared P. Kirtland, Dr. John Locke, Dr. C. Briggs, Col. T. W. Foster, and Col. Charles Wittlesey.

Dr. Kirtland was a model specimen of those noble men with great hearts, clear heads and diligent hands. He was no closet naturalist, but a student of nature in its full degree. In 1829, while studying the unios or fresh-water mussels, he discovered that authors and teachers of conchology had made nearly double the number of species which are warrantable. Names had been given to species in which was only a difference of form due to males and females of the same species. The fraternity of naturalists in the United States and Europe were astonished because of the value of the discovery and the source whence it came. There were hundreds and probably thousands of professors who had observed the unios and enjoyed the pleasure of inventing new names for the varieties. “A practicing physician in the backwoods of Ohio had shattered the entire nomenclature of the naiads.”[10]

At the Cincinnati meeting of the American Association in 1852, Professor Kirtland produced specimens of unios of both sexes, from their conception through all stages to the perfect animal and its shell. Agassiz was present and sustained his views, and said they were likewise sustained by the most eminent naturalists of Europe.[11] And it is worthy of remembrance that it is only those who base their conclusions on observed nature that make permanent reputations, and show that theory and discussion do not settle any thing worthy a place in science.

The field was long and wide as it was inviting to the man of science. And the large corps of medical men dispersed over the state, working in concert with each other, and in daily contact with the observing hunter, constituted an academy of science that will not likely ever find its parallel in enthusiasm, character and efficiency. The country was so healthy that the practice of medicine was limited and unremunerative, and the doctor who carried a gun and whistle for a dog often had much of his time and attention taken up with things other than squirrels. He conversed with intelligent hunters, and listened attentively to all they had to say, and then investigated their statements of every thing in turn, from the habits and life of the black ant, that relieves the beasts and birds from annoying ticks, up to the most perplexing questions in natural history. His shelves were loaded with mineral and archæological specimens; his cases glistened with the bright plumage of rare taxidermic birds; his drawers filled with oological information; and every rare plant, tree and shrub accurately drawn and classified, with the fruits and flowers indigenous to different parts of the state, received attention and preservation.

And the question may be suggested, Where did all this wealth of thought and investigation, scattered over the state, go to?

The answer is found in the collections of nearly every natural history society in the United States—in the geological surveys of the state, and in the everlasting records made by Thomas Nuttall, John J. Audubon and Alexander Wilson. These noted authors with pens, pencils and brushes were in the new world collecting facts—each independent of the other. Nuttall, to make a compendious and scientific treatise on ornithology, hoping to produce it at a price so reasonable as to permit it to find a place in the hands of general readers. Audubon marked out his designs on a much larger and more expensive scale—to give the exact size, coloring, etc., of the birds and botany indigenous to the country. This required double elephantine sheets, three feet three inches long, by two feet two inches wide, to accommodate figures of the large birds. Exactness was a prominent feature in making this descriptive history. The eye was never trusted for size; every portion of each object—the bill, the feet, the legs, the claws, the very feathers as they projected beyond each other, were accurately measured. These full-size drawings were engraved and artistically colored by hand, according to the pattern drawings and colorings made by the author’s pencil and brush. Collecting and formulating the material for the four hundred plates, required six year’s labor in the unbroken forests, and the publication handicraft twenty more in a foreign country. It was nevertheless completed and will forever remain as pronounced, by the immortal Cuvier, “The greatest monument ever erected by Art to Nature.”

Alexander Wilson also contemplated nature, as nature is, and communed with her in her sanctuaries. In the forests, mountains and shores, he sought knowledge at the fountain head.

The observations and records made by these collectors are the corner stones of natural history of the United States, and their writings and illustrations will be consulted when other books on the subject have passed to oblivion. Still it can not be claimed that all valuable observations have been or ever will be registered; nor that collectors did not obtain much of their vast stores of information from pioneer residents, as the acknowledgment of this fact is so often met with in their works. These authors compliment the medical profession, who in turn refer to the pioneers, students and professors in natural history—the “Squirrel Hunters.”

Dr. Coues, the standard authority on ornithology of the present time, was told incidentally by a reputable woodsman, that the “wild goose” often nested in trees along large water-courses. The Doctor could scarcely believe it, and was led to investigate, and found the circumstance to be a matter of common information among the residents of localities where the bird rears its young. Captain Bindere, of the army, stationed in Oregon, states that one year it was dry and the geese all nested on the ground; and the next year proved wet with high waters, and many nested in the trees, and asks if this is instinct or reason. Other birds that usually nest on the ground, for some reason during the wet season, occasionally build in trees, showing an architectural ability entirely different from nests constructed on the ground. The writer has known the chewink, or ground-robin to build five feet from the ground a well-constructed nest, during wet seasons only.

It is the observing man who resides for many years among beasts and birds that obtains full knowledge of their habits under various circumstances. It is the patient man to whom nature reveals her secrets; and the half-clad hunter is often a man versed in these hidden things, and can even tell how to “feed tadpoles to make them all females” as correctly as a Professor Drummond.

Through the knowledge of such men have come the great educators—the natural history societies and associations of the north-west. Is there one of these institutions of civilization that owes not its origin to the collections, accomplishments, observations and will of the Squirrel Hunter? Not one. He not only collected scientific matter, but was also the man the future looked upon as the one to open up farms, build school-houses, churches, highways, water-courses, mills, manufactures—to carry on commerce, make laws and to enforce them. He kept his gun clean, his powder dry and bullet pouch full, ready to put down rebellion or subdue invasion, or perform any other duty assigned him.

All this is no fancy sketch nor pen-picture—history written and unwritten will forever stand with his honorable mention. In the war of 1812, Ohio sent out more of these men as volunteers than she had voters; and in addition to this—when it was known General Hull had disgracefully surrendered the fort at Detroit, the Squirrel Hunters in the northern counties of the state did not await an invitation, but with their own guns, ammunition, blankets and rations marched to Cleveland, and made General Brock and his Indians feel satisfied to have the big pond of water between them and these determined men.

The following year (1813), at the time Fort Meigs was under hot fire and siege by General Proctor and his mixed army of British and Indians, the besieging general, it is said, was informed “ten thousand ‘squirrel hunters,’ called ‘Hardy Buckeyes,’[12] were on their way and near at hand to tell his army to get out of the country without delay!” On receipt of this, “not another gun was fired,” and the general with his army took the nearest and most expeditious route to Canada.

In the absence of the love of gain that comes with higher civilization, the pioneers were in favorable condition to receive literary and religious instructions. And the teachers found the people always as ready and anxious to hear the words of inspiration and eternal life as are those of the present time to learn the last quotations of the market.

The strictly moral and religious elements seldom, if ever, took part in such amusements as “shooting-matches,” “horse-racing,” ball-dancing, card-playing, or drinking whisky. And for the first forty years of the Nineteenth Century, the social condition, in regard to loading vices, had perhaps less evil than at any period since.

The majority of resident citizens were a Sunday-observing, church-going people. Although the inhabitants were sparse, the congregations were generally very large—whole families would walk six, eight, and ten miles or more to hear a Lorenzo Dow, Jacob Young, or Bishop McKendree.

Sectarian influences were but little felt. The people encouraged all denominations, though differing in confessions of faith and church discipline; each had in view the making mankind better here, and happier hereafter. “And for forms of faith, let graceless zealots fight, holding that his ‘can’t be wrong’ whose life is right.” And with a people who had many reasons to believe in special providences it was but consistent they should cultivate a submissive sincerity and desire to follow the paths of rectitude, with faith and assurance—“to such all ends well.”

In looking back upon the records made by Squirrel Hunters in early days there may be seen a most wonderful faith in the providences of practical religion—that religion which stays with the individual throughout his daily occupations of life. A simple instance of this old-fashioned piety is sufficient to illustrate its meaning and spirit of the times, taken from the biography of one born in the Quaker Church, written by himself:

“I owned two hundred acres of choice land, heavily timbered and well watered with springs and brooks. Of this, only five acres were cleared for cultivation. My family consisted of wife and two small children. Of domestic animals, I had two horses, a cow and a dog. One evening, in the spring of 1813, the cow failed to come home. Her pasture was an unfenced wilderness. The bell could not be heard, and search beyond its sounds was impractical after night. Three days were ineffectually spent without obtaining the least clue to her location; and bodings of bad luck seemed standing in the high way to prosperity.

Man of Special Providences.

“I gave the cow up for lost and resumed the work of grubbing and burning brush to enlarge the five acres a little. In the afternoon, while busily engaged with my thoughts in smoke and brush, my wife and two children appeared on the ground. She came to tell me there was a man at the house with a sad story. He had been burned out, and lost everything, and wanted help to start again. I told her we were too poor to help any body; that the half dollar in the house was all the money we had, and I did not think it best to part with the last cent; that he should go to work and earn something and not spend his time begging of people who have nothing. My good nature had got around on the north side.

“As my wife turned toward the cabin, she observed, ‘The man looks much distressed.’ And either her words, spirit, or something else, brought before my eyes in large capital letters the creed or motto of my life, ‘Do right and all will come right.’ And I called her, saying, ‘Give the unfortunate man the half dollar, and tell him we feel for him.’ The beggar left rejoicing. And while at supper the sound of the cow-bell was at the door—the lost had returned, and we were all happy again.”

Pioneer preaching was most satisfactory and successful, and piety appeared quite as lasting in members of the Methodist Church as those in churches holding “once in grace, always in grace.” It was remarkable, as stated, that in a sparsely settled country congregations would assemble in numbers so great no house could accommodate more than a small fraction of the multitude. And out-door preaching became a necessity; and camp-meetings held in “God’s first temples” were inaugurated in the very commencement of the settlements, and a meeting of the kind in the pleasant season of the year would bring together the inhabitants from a large area of country. And under the supervision of such eminently spiritual divines as Bishop Asbury, McKendree, and others, it was not strange the old lady entertained the opinion that “dogfennel and Methodism were bound to take the country.”

Methodism and its methods were better adapted to the religious wants of the people than any of the many sects that found missionary encouragement in the North-west, and it was well said by Warren Miller, of New York, recently, at the Methodist Social Union, held in Chicago in honor of John Wesley—“that Methodism has exercised a greater influence for good over the institutions of our government, from its origin, and over the lives and character of the masses of our people than any other branch of the Christian Church, can not be questioned by any one who has carefully studied the inner history of our government and of our people.”

Religious and educational interests were not neglected, and where the population was too sparse and poor to afford a week-day school, children were taught to read and write in Sunday-schools, which were open in summer in most every neighborhood. Church buildings were few, but preaching and religious services were seldom overlooked, and in warm weather were held in the groves, and in winter in private houses, bar-rooms, country taverns, school-houses, courtrooms, and other places obtained for the occasion. Protracted, tented, or camp-meetings increased, following the settlements, and becoming very popular with preachers and people—usually lasting over a week—attended by large congregations and great revivals.

Stated preaching places were free to all denominations.

Church, Residence, and Court-house.

Of the numerous log-cabins used for this purpose, only a few have been preserved as familiar objects in the history of early settlements. A house that served as a family residence, hotel, church, court-house, and school-house—a humble log cabin, of which the above drawing is a faithful likeness—is still standing.

Dwellings, school-houses, churches, “meeting-houses,” hotels, and court-houses, resembled each other so closely, it required a knowledge of the purpose to apply the correct name. And quite frequently cabins were dedicated for general purposes, but without change of pattern.

The Methodist Western Conference comprised in 1802, Ohio, Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, Mississippi, and missionary fields in Indiana, Illinois and Michigan. The ministry traveled on horseback, and after conference each member would have his field of labor designated on a map or drawing. On arrival at point of duty the minister arranged his own circuit and engaged his own preaching places, so he might travel and preach each day in the week.

Bishop Asbury devoted all his time and talents to this large field of religious instruction; traveled and preached, and was so devoted to the religious or spiritual welfare of the people that he often remarked to Mr. Kendree that his work was so arduous that he “never had time to marry a wife, buy a farm or build a house.” And it can not be said that he or those in his charge had either an easy or lucrative calling—the bishop’s salary being sixteen dollars per quarter, or sixty-four dollars per annum. But he lived to see that for which he and other Christian denominations labored—ten years of the most remarkable revivals of religion that ever occurred in the United States, and of which Ohio and the North-west received a full share of the good and lasting results.

In the period from 1800 to 1810, or during the height of the great religious revival that swept over the western and southern states, there existed a singular manifestation, called the “jerks.” It appeared to follow and to be in some way related to religious excitement; to be no respecter of persons, and made victims of all classes and conditions of society. A noted divine in his autobiography says: “I have often seen the ladies take it at the breakfast table, as they were pouring out tea or coffee. They would throw the whole up toward the ceiling, and sometimes break both cup and saucer. They would then leave the table in great haste, their long suits of braided hair hanging down their backs, at times cracking like a whip. For a time it was the topic of conversation, public and private, both in and out of the church. Various opinions prevailed. Some said it was the work of the devil, and strove against it. Sometimes it almost took their lives.”[13]

The Methodist and Presbyterian ministers were working together in the revival very harmoniously. But in due time it became whispered around that the Methodists were making more noise than necessary; that shouting was a matter under the control of the will, and should be moderated. All this reached the ears of a young minister, who, at a camp-meeting in 1804, and before an audience of more than ten thousand people, concluded it a fitting moment to set matters right and explain or give the philosophy of the “jerks,” and that of shouting, and of which he says:

“On Monday morning I preached. I was preceded by the venerable Van Pelt, who, having preached a short and pithy sermon, sat down, with the congregation bathed in tears. There was no appearance of jerks. I took the stand like most of men who know but little and fear nothing, and undertook to account for the jerks. The preachers behind me looked as if they were alarmed, the audience seemed astonished at the young man. I viewed it as a judgment on that wicked community. This led me to take a compendious view of nations, to show that God’s providence was just, as well as merciful. Though He bore long, His judgments were sure to come.... I took occasion to dwell on the rise and progress of Methodism in this country, and the cruel persecutions its professors had met from their neighbors. I quoted their taunting language: ‘How, the Methodists are a pack of hypocrites, and could refrain from shouting if they would.’ I made a pause, then exclaimed, at the top of my voice: ‘Do you leave off jerking if you can?’ It was thought more than five hundred commenced jumping, shouting, and jerking. There was no more preaching that day. One good old mother in Israel admonished me, and said I had just done it in order to set them to jerking.”

The “jerks” have never been satisfactorily accounted for. Some persons have attributed the manifestations to the influence of witchcraft. But this superstition failed to fasten itself upon Western civilization as it unfortunately did on the Eastern States; and the witches imported into the North-west were so few and insignificant in character that none of the tribe ever reached recognition to an extent sufficient to obtain more than a mere mention in the statute books of Ohio. They made but little public history.

In 1828, there was a court case in Lawrence county, involving the individuality of those operating the “black art,” growing out of an action to recover on a warranty given in a bill of sale of a horse. The horse proved unsatisfactory, if not unsound. And it was claimed the horse was docile and all right, excepting for frequent periodical “spells,” in which he would stop in the midst of routine work, and, after a short pause, would rear, kick, plunge, and strike out right and left, uttering unearthly cries, foaming at the mouth, and trembling, showing great fatigue and fear. All these alarming symptoms would pass off in a short time, and the animal would again resume its normal condition and in all respects a docile and well educated beast.

It was during one of the animal’s normal periods that the defendant sold it to the plaintiff, making the usual warranty. Soon after, while the animal was quietly drawing the family to a country church, he commenced kicking and screaming, until he demolished a new wagon and tore down the “worm fences” in the vicinity of the transaction, and suit was brought upon the warranty to recover the money.

The witnesses for plaintiff showed conclusively that there was something wrong with the horse; and defendant frankly admitted all that had been testified as to the singular “spells” or waywardness of the animal, and related others more startling, but declared that this was not because of any unsoundness, but owing to the horse being bewitched from time to time by a gang of witches under control of an old lady who lived in seclusion of the mountains and fastnesses for which Lawrence county is noted.

The defendant stated to the court that this gang were in the habit of taking possession of horses and cattle, and sometimes of men and women, riding and worrying them almost to death in the night-time. That the horse he had sold (and causing this suit) was one of the victims of this witchery, and that he sold the horse to his neighbor hoping the evil spirit would not pursue it when it had passed into other hands—adding, “If witches could be driven out of the neighborhood the horse would be all right, and the people would be better off.”

Upon mature deliberation, the court went far enough in the direction of the views of the defendant to render a conditional judgment, to wit, “that the defendant should either repay the plaintiff the price of the horse, or relieve the animal of the witches.” Upon receipt of this optional decree, the defendant went up to the head waters of Little Beaver, in Pike county, and consulted a noted witch doctor who resided in that neighborhood.

After obtaining a statement of the case, the doctor concluded it was necessary to visit the locality and make a careful and mysterious study of the situation. On arrival in the affected district the doctor soon discovered that the old woman on the hill was at the head of a gang of witches, and prescribed an old-time remedy—that she be at once seized and burned at the stake.

It is reported that even the victims of the witches thought this to be rather heroic, and insisted that some milder remedy should be adopted. After several days study of the case, the doctor so far modified the prescription as to substitute the first animal that fell into the clutches of the witches as a vicarious offering at the stake.

“It was only a few days until one of the defendants’ cows was taken possession of by a battallion of witches, which apparently showed indications of complete recovery. Defendant lost no time, but called his neighbors together to assist him in tying the cow with ropes and leading her into a neighboring clearing, where there were plenty of dry logs and brush.

“These were piled around and over the bellowing animal and fired. Then began a supernatural battle. The cow refused to be burned to death and gave vent to the most piteous and unearthly moans. More brush and logs were piled on her, and blue flames leaped high in the air, assuming grotesque shapes and uttering guttural laughing sounds.

“As sunset approached, the struggles and moans of the animal began to subside and the flesh and bones began to yield to the consuming fangs of the flame; the doctor and the defendant in the law-suit, stood by watching for the denouement with absorbing interest, while the awe-stricken neighbors stood farther back in the gathering folds of the approaching night.

“There was a lurid outburst of flames, demoniac cries and gibbering as a cloud of sparks rose upward, on the crest of which were a score of witches, each with a firebrand in its hand. Up and up they rose, then sailed away over the hill and past the hut of the old lady, and finally disappeared from sight.”

The bewitched horse recovered his wonted docility, and the purchaser never again had any complaint to make. The old lady ceased to commune with witches, joined the church, and when she passed away was mourned by the entire community, and so far as known, the witch doctor never had another case, and the court records officially attest that there once were witches in this part of Ohio, but were most effectually expelled by fire and the doctor, and fled shrieking across the Ohio River, into Kentucky, where they still exist among white politicians and the aged colored population, who once served under the previous condition. All of which is a pointer as to variety, or that Ohio can show enough merely to make up a fair assortment and pattern of most every kind of people, with room for improvement by further advances in civilization that will end the least barbarous act in the attempt to diminish crime by the horrors of electrocution, the rope, or the stake and fagots.

But the “jerks,” as well as witchcraft, soon gave way before the ministers of the gospel, who were a social body of men, welcomed always at pioneer homes: although many stories have been circulated in regard to their love for barn-yard poultry. In early days wild game was common, and when a preacher called, something extra was sought in honor of the guest, and generally a chicken was sacrificed for the occasion. At one time, the minister who said “a turkey was an unhandy bird—rather too much for one, and not quite enough for two,” called to dine with a widow woman and sister in the church, who was noted for her willingness to put the “best foot foremost.” After a short time the clergyman went out to look after his horse, and heard a boy crying, and soon located him back of the corn-crib, with a chicken under his arm. “What is the matter, sonny?” said the divine in his most soothing manner. The boy bawled out “Matter! between the hawks and circuit-riders, this is the only chicken left on the place.”

Early in the nineteenth century a citizen and observing author[14] says: “There is a prejudice against all preachers in this (Ohio) and all other states is certainly true; but, so far as we are acquainted with them, and we know them well, we are compelled to say that our clergymen in Ohio, especially those who have lived here ever since our first settlement, deserve unqualified praise for their zeal and good works. No men in this state have been so useful in building up society, in making us a moral and truly religious people.

“Their disinterestedness and benevolence; their kindness, forbearance and charity, zeal, industry and perseverance in well-doing, merit and receive the respect, gratitude and affection of all good men. They have labored zealously and faithfully and long, and their pay has been but trifling. We name them not, though we know them all. They have always been the true friends of liberty, and they would be the very last men in the nation to wish to overturn our free institutions.”

The work of the clergy, though differing from that of the doctor, often caused them to meet on common ground, and they were alike fast friends of humanity and of each other. As a financial success neither could boast the superior; but in the good works in which they were engaged the minister of the gospel held the longer and stronger lever. With the doctor “death ended all;” but the lessons of the man of inspiration established a faith in a higher and everlasting existence, which shed its influence from the departed to the living, and placed in view another and higher kingdom.

For many years the learned profession of law was a mere form, and practically remained on the statute books. Few indeed were the causes justifying legal investigation. Parties having grievances preferred to settle them in the primitive way.

A single recorded instance so fully represents the infant scales of justice in Ohio that we quote the proceedings of the first court held in Greene county, in a public “tavern” with all the accommodations for man and beast.

The first court-house in this county was not located within the area of the present city of Xenia, and it was by no means as pretentious as the present structure. A primitive log cabin with a single room, in a “clearing” of a few acres, some five miles west of the present county seat, a little off the road which leads from Xenia to Dayton, with Owen Davis’s mill on one side and a block-house on the other side of the stream, was the place where the blind goddess first set up her balances.

The building was constructed by General Benj. Whiteman more than a century ago, and shortly after became the property of Peter Borders, and was selected by the “court” as the seat of justice in 1803, when the first session was held to complete the county organization. The first term of court was synonymous with a meeting of the county commissioners of the present day. The presiding, or law, judge, Hon. Francis Dunlavy, was not present, and the associate judges, William Maxwell, Benjamin Whitman and James Barrett, with John Paul, clerk, met at the Borders cabin on the 10th of May, 1803, and duly dedicated it. The session lasted but a single day, and the business dispatched was the organization of the townships. This done, the court adjourned until the next regular session, which convened some two months later.

This was a more imposing court and was convened for trying such causes, civil and criminal, as might come up for consideration. The court opened with a perfect, clean docket, and for a short time it looked as though there would be nothing to do. Judge Francis Dunlavy, then one of the most distinguished citizens of the new state, and who had served in the territorial legislature, from Hamilton county, presided, with associate justices Maxwell, Whiteman and Barrett on the bench, and Daniel Symmes, of Hamilton, performing the duties of prosecuting attorney. The grand jury was composed of William J. Stewart, foreman, John Wilson, Wm. Buckles, Abram Van Eaton, James Snodgrass, John Judy, Evan Morgan, Robert Marshall, Alex. C. Armstrong, Joseph Wilson, Joseph C. Vance, John Buckingham, Martin Mindenhall and Henry Martin, who were duly sworn and impaneled.

Chief Justice Dunlavy (as recorded) delivered a forcible charge to the grand jury, directing it to diligently inquire into and make a true presentment of all infractions of the law within its bailiwick. Duly impressed with the solemnity of the charge to which they had listened, the jury retired a few yards distant from the cabin, where they began the first grand inquest, but the most diligent inquiry failed to discover a single case requiring their attention and action.

The court, as it seems, would have proved an absolute and inglorious failure had not Owen Davis, the miller, come to its rescue. People far away as the Dutch settlement in Miami, had taken advantage of court day to come to the mill with their grists. Among the number from a distance was a Mr. Smith from Warren county. Mr. Smith had the reputation of helping himself to pork wherever he could find wild hogs in the woods, and Mr. Davis, after having turned out the grist for his Warren county friend, concluded to administer a little “pioneer law” on his own account, while the court was proceeding in a more conventional manner. Accordingly he gave the unfortunate Smith a good drubbing, and as he was an expert Indian fighter, the job, no doubt, was well done. Having finished it, he burst into the primitive courtroom where the judges sat around the deal table in solemn state and awful dignity, with the exclamation—

“Well, I’ll be blanked if I haven’t done it!”

“Done what, sir?” inquired associate justice Whiteman.

“I’ve whipped that blanked hog thief from down the country, Ben, and I’ve made a good job of it. What’s the damage, anyhow? What’s to pay?”

Whereupon he pulled out his purse and counted down a handful of silver coins, while the court looked on with horrified surprise, but said nothing.

“Oh, it’s a fact,” he went on, “I’ve whipped him, Ben, and blank you if you’d steal a hog, I’d whip you, too!”

This was altogether too much for the court, and the sheriff was ordered to go out and get the witnesses to the affray and take them before the grand jury. The miller’s pugilistic performance, however, had proved contagious, and when the sheriff got outside, he found a free fight going on in all directions, and the grand jurors watching it through the openings in the little out-house.

Everybody who had a grievance was settling, or trying to settle it in the regular way, in backwoods fashion, and the grand jury and prosecutor Symmes at once had their hands more than full of business. A score or more of witnesses were examined and by the middle of the afternoon, nine indictments for affray and assault and battery were presented in court, and the offenders, including the owner of the court-house, were arraigned. All plead guilty, beginning with Davis, the first offender, who was assessed a fine eight dollars, and the rest four dollars each. All paid their fines upon the nail, so that the court, owing to the fortunate visit of the Warren county man, found itself in funds to the amount of forty dollars before early candle lighting.

The rest of the business of the court, including a license to Peter Borders, to conduct a “tavern” in the court-house, with all the word implied, for which he was taxed eight dollars, was finished before bed time, and the court was ready to adjourn at an early hour next morning.

Daniel Symmes, the prosecuting attorney, had come from Cincinnati, making the fifty miles’ journey on horseback along the Indian trails, and the court awarded twenty dollars out of the proceeds of the fines as compensation. But when it reassembled in December following, it decided that the payment had been illegally made, and Mr. Symmes was required to refund it. This so discouraged the prosecuting attorney, he decided that thereafter he would not appear in that court as prosecutor. He was partially remunerated, however, when, a few years later, he was promoted to the supreme bench.

The first session of the Supreme Court was hold in this old log-cabin, on the 25th of October, 1803, the judges present being Samuel Huntington and William Sprigg. The third judge, Jonathan Meigs, was unable to be present, but Arthur St. Clair, of Hamilton county, attended the sitting in all the glory of a cocked hat and other military paraphernalia. The only business transacted by the court was to admit Richard Thomas to the practice of law.

The descendants of pioneers cling with tenacity to the memories of olden times, and are proud of the historic struggles made by their ancestors to establish schools, churches, and good government in a wilderness known only to savage life for untold ages. Although there was little cause for litigation, it was necessary to hold the courts of justice open, as it was to encourage schools and churches that directed society in the enlightened paths of virtue and higher plane of civilization.

Workers in religious denominations met with more or less encouragement, and mapped out their fields upon a large scale for future operations. And fathers and mothers, doctors, ministers, and lawyers worked harmoniously together to instruct, educate, and elevate coming generations, and many lived to witness the fruits of those exertions with pride and satisfaction.

Colonel Charles Whittlesey, in an address before the “Northern Ohio Historical Society,” November, 1881, says: “If our representative men are prominent, it may be a source of honorable state pride, for, while great men do not make a great people, they are signs of a solid constituency. Native genius is about equally distributed in all nations, even in barbarous ones; but it goes to waste wherever the surroundings are not propitious....

“Cromwell was endowed with a mental capacity equal to the greatest of men; but he would not have appeared in history if there had not been a constituency of Round-heads, full of strength, determined upon the overthrow of a licentious king and his nobility....

“Washington would not have been known in history if the people of the American Colonies had not been stalwarts in every sense, who selected him as their representative. In these colonies the process of cross-breeding among races had then been carried further than in England, and is now a prime factor in the strength of the United States.

“I propose to apply the same rule to the first settlers of Ohio, and to show that if she now holds a high place in the nation, it is not an accident, but can be traced to manifest natural causes, and those not alone climate, soil, and geographical position.”

No doubt, the admixture of races has in some cases added something favorable to the physical and mental powers of manhood; but, perhaps, in regard to the superiority of the men of the North-west, more must be attributed to the natural conditions and surroundings which secured freedom from all corroding influences of avarice, added to the alert outdoor life among Indians and savage beasts, with the rifle and attendant athletic exercises, that gave mental stimulation without subsequent exhaustion of mind or body. The rising Squirrel Hunter is no drone; he represents a bundle of activities that scorns a leisure that breeds an indolent stupidity.