HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY - 451 CHAPTER XVI. BERLIN TOWNSHIP - THE GREAT SCARE - HISTORICAL SCRAPS - HISTORY OF VILLAGES, ETC " A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards, Hast ta'en with equal thanks."-Shakespeare. IT was all woods about here." Such is the expression which invariably meets the ear of the one seeking information in regard to the early settlements. To the generation of to-day the phrase has become trite and nearly meaningless, but the thoughtful observer cannot fail to notice that it is far otherwise to the man who knew the country at that period. To him the phrase presents in one vivid flash all that history tells of the stern, inevitable experience of the pioneer. Like a bugle blast of Roderick Dhu in Clan-Alpine's glen, it calls up the trackless forest, the unbridged streams, the pangs of hunger felt, days of toil and nights of fear, and * * * "Most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field." And to get any adequate idea of pioneer life we must put ourselves with him, and then the phrase will mean something. In the whirl and bustle of the nineteenth century; with one invention hurrying another out of date, we are apt to forget that there was ever any deed of pioneers. The pioneer of to-day is unworthy the name. Seeking a home in the `Pest. he travels with the rapidity of steam and the ease of a railway car. Set down in some, thriving village, he goes not into an unknown country. The great newspapers of the day have been before him a special correspondent has been over the spot and has collated the evidence as to soil, water, products, transportation, markets, social privileges and the thousand things affecting the emigrant's business and pleasure. His pockets are crammed with maps and information of the grew railroad corporations, which offer him land or "long time and easy payments." Deciding to buy land, his household goods and a house framed and ready to put up are shipped at reduced rates, while improved implements and all the advantages of a pioneer experience of a hundred years, unite to make his work effective. In ten years he is in the center of a civilization combining more privileges than the proudest and oldest community of New England knew when the pioneers of this lane were young. What. difficulties they encountered and with untiring fortitude overcome, it is the purpose of these pages to relate. When they sought the untried country of the West, they launched out like a mariner on an unknown sea. Following a wagon track until that ceased, they passed the frontier and entered an unmapped wilderness, guided only by compass and deed. Arrived at their destination, they found themselves alone, in a forest that practically had no limit, with not only a house to build from such material as they could secure unassisted by mill or machinery, but they had to quarry out of the forest a spot on which to place it. The log house, with mud to make it tight, the rude doors and windows, the chimney made of a tottering mass of mud and sticks, the remains of which here and there are yet to be seen, was their home. The fitful flame of the hickory brand was their light and defense by night, and the household dependence by day. The babbling brook furnished a doubtful supply of water until the creaking "sweep" drew from the surer resource of a well the all-important factor in human economy. But all this has long since passed away « like a tale that is told." About 'us are gathered the fruits of their toil in a. civilization to which the world elsewhere is a stranger, and, looking back along the way the guiding hand of Providence has led the pioneer, we can but with the poet Bryant say, "What cordial welcomes greet the guest By thy lone rivers of the West; How faith is kept, and truth revered, And man is loved, and God is feared, In woodland homes." Township 4, Range 18, of the United States Military Survey, was divided between the townships of Berkshire, Delaware and Liberty from 1806 to 1820. In 1806, Sections 1 and 4 were, with the rest of Berkshire Township, as it then was, erected into a township. This was the shape of Berlin when the first settlers came here. Col. Byxbe owned Section 1 of the fourth township in Range 18, a fact which probably accounts for the strange division of townships when Berkshire was laid off and it was not until January 8, 1820, that Berlin 452 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. Township was erected, taking from Berkshire the first and fourth sections, from Delaware the second section, and from Liberty the third section. Asa Scott is credited with starting' the petition and with giving the name to the newly formed township. The township thus formed retains its shape to the present time, bounded on the north by Brown, on the east by Berkshire, on the south by Orange, and on the west by Liberty and Delaware Townships. Alum Creek, which rises in the southern part of Morrow County, passing through Brown, takes a southerly course through the east ern part of Berlin. This stream affords drainage for a wider area of country on the cast side than on the west, which makes it almost a dividing line between the dry soil of the eastern part of the township and the swampy land on the west. Along the eastern bank of the creek the surface is inclined for bluffs near the stream, and is somewhat broken as one proceeds back. Going south on this side, below the middle line, the land becomes less broken, and fine bottom lands are found, which abounded in an early day with basswood, butternut, buckeye, walnut and a sort of burr-oak timber. with an underbrush consisting principally of spicebush and papaw. On the high land there is the usual variety of oak, hickory and maple. The line between the high and low land of the township is that which divides the township through the middle from north to south. West of this line was at an early date an almost continuous elm swamp bearing burr oak and elm timber. As the land has been cleared, the swamps have gradually dried up, but not without a large amount of ditching: some of the ditches being seven feet deep and from sixteen to twenty feet wide. The soil in the eastern part is the usual mixture of clays well adapted to grass and corn. The low land in the other part of the township is rich soil, but a large part of it has, until recently, been covered with stagnant water. The system of ditching carried on by the township trustees is rapidly draining this land. which will add greatly to its productiveness. Considerable stock is brought in to feed for market, and some attention is paid to stock raising, farmers showing some fine-blooded animals. The township has two centralized communities, the one about Cheshire, a small Hamlet on Alum Creek, a little south of the middle line of the township, and Berlin Station, on the Columbus Division of the Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati &, Indianapolis Railway, in the western part of the township, a short distance north of the middle line. The first purchaser of land in Berlin was Joseph Constant, of Peekskill, N. Y. He bought Section from the Government, paying two dollars per acre, and receiving a deed signed by John Adams. He was known as Judge Constant. Whether he received his title from a popular feeling that he was good as a judge or because he had enjoyed that honor, is not clearly known. He is said to have been a colonel in the army, and engaged in the war with the Seminoles in Florida, where he contracted an illness which terminated in his death. .Some time before his death he gave David Lewis, Sr., fifty acres of land in his section on condition that he would settle on it, a condition that, he at oneo proceeded to fulfill. The first settlement, however, was made by George Cowgill, who located in November of 1805, about a mile above where Hall's mill stood. Closely following him came David Lewis, Sr., with his daughter Hannah, and sons John and David. Jr. The latter was married, and, on September 29, 1806, had a son born, whom he named Joseph Constant Lewis, for Judge Constant. This was the first birth in the settlement. On their way to their new homes the Lewises had come through Berkshire Corners, and, leaving their families there, proceeded to their claim to erect a home. Starting from the center line of the township on the line of the section they followed west to Alum Creek, then south, getting their direction by a pocket compass and making their measurements with a bed-cord. Reaching, as they supposed, the point described in their deed, they put up a cabin into which they moved their family. On surveying the land a short time afterward they found themselves too far south by some thirty rods. They at once built another cabin on the hill, across the creek from Cheshire, on the spot now owned by Mrs. Platt. which they occupied about the 10th of January, 1806. The following spring saw the arrival of Joseph Eaton, Sr., and John Johnston, with their families, from Huntington, Penn. They settled on the west side of the creek on the Byxbe tract, near a tributary of Alum Creek, called Olive Creek or Big Run, about two miles above Cheshire. Later in the year came David Isaac, Philander Hoadley. and Chester Lewis. with their families, from Waterbury, Conn., and settled oil Section 4. In 1807, two more families came, those of Philo Hoadley and Asa Scott. James Kilbourn became agent for the Constant property, and sold all that remained in New Haven County, Conn. The Hoadleys and Scott, anxious to secure a soil less sterile than their native HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 453 State presented, were glad to believe the exaggerated description of the West, and, purchasing their land, started in two wagons. Philo Hoadley, besides his wife and three boys, afforded accommodations for Lovell and Lucy Caulkins. Brother and sister went to work, he to clearing a place to raise a support for his father's family, which was to come, and she to teaching school. After clearing some three acres, raising a crop of corn and planting seeds for fruit trees, he set about returning home. This he did in 1808, and, accompanied by a younger Lewis, went to Fredrickton the first day, thence to Jerometown Indian Camp, thence a third day's journey to a camp in the wood, and from there by way of Cleveland to Connecticut. His report of the country soon raised the Western fever to the highest pitch among those who had known no soil better than the stone-fields of Connecticut. A company of emigrants was immediately made up, consisting of four families, including those of Roswell Caulkins, Samuel Adams, Jonathan Thompson and John Lewis-in all forty persons. On the 20th of September, 1809, the little colony set its face toward the Hudson River and commenced its tedious journey to the West. Mrs. Ripley, known then as Julia Caulkins, has left an interesting account of their journey to Berlin, which we quote: " The crossing of this river was to us an object of terror. We arrived on the second day at Fishkill and took passage in three boats. The one taken by our family proved a leaky affair, the water pouring in on all sides, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that we reached the other shore. At that time I saw a boat slowly moving down stream, without sails, from which issued a dense column of black smoke. `See ! father,' I cried, `there is a boat on fire!' He replied, 'That is the great wonder; Fulton's experiment, that we have read so much about in the papers.' "On reaching, the Blue Ridge, the first range of the Alleghany Mountains, the ascent was found so difficult, and the roads so cut up by the heavy teaming, that it was found necessary to lighten the teams as far as possible. The men stayed back with the teams, which, forced to stop frequently to breathe, made slow progress. The women formed the advance guard, carrying rifles and shot-guns all the way over the mountains. What added to the difficulties of the journey was the frequent meeting with the immense wagons that transport goods over the mountains. Three small bells worn in a brass frame above the head of each horse, announced the approach of these land-ships. On our journey we often fell in with other emigrants, and sometimes saw the adventurous bridegroom walking beside his hopeful bride, mounted on a pack-saddle which contained all their earthly treasure. From Zanesville to Newark, and thence through Granville, we reached a cluster of cabins called the Welsh settlement, on the border of the `long woods,' where we prepared for a night in the wilderness. We at once plunged into the forest with no guide save the blazed trees, starting up, as we traveled, flocks of wild turkeys and numbers of deer. Our camp was pitched on the bank of a brook, where the gay attire of the leaves combined with our brilliant camp-fires to render the scene a grand one. The wolves did not seem to approve of our demonstration, and made the woods vocal with their howling. We proceeded early next morning, and before sunset on October 30 we reached our destination, having been forty days on our journey." Capt. John Lewis, of this party, was the first permanent resident in the southeast quarter of the township, east of the creek. From time to time, others arrived to gladden the hearts of the settlers, and to help bear the burdens of frontier life. In 1806, Berkshire, of which Berlin was then a part, took on the functions of a township as a part of Franklin County. The post office was at Franklinton, and the place of voting at Worthington, then at Berkshire Corners, and later at Joseph Eaton's and Dr. Loofbourrow's. There were small stores of groceries and dry goods within eight miles where British calico might be purchased at 50 cents per yard, and common tea at $1.50 per pound. During the war of 1812, and afterward, these goods advanced to almost double this price, while wheat sold for only 37 1/2 cents per bushel, and dressed pork sold for only $1.50 per hundred weight. A prominent factor in the society of this community, at this time, were the Indians. To express it in the language of one of the pioneers, they were "thick as blackbirds," and, while they never disputed the settlers right to settle and shoot the game, they felt that they had a right to a part of the corn and vegetables grown in the settlement. It was some time before the early settlers could look upon them with equanimity. The stories of the horrible massacres during the early history of the New England States were fresh in their minds, and the unprotected situation in which they - found themselves gave rise to not unreasonable 454 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. apprehensions. A longer experience and judicious treatment of the savages did much to allay these fears. The Indians accepted the intrusion of the white man as a part of fate, and made a virtue of necessity. A remarkable instance of their tractability is related by Rev. John W. Thompson, which we give from an historical sermon, preached in Berlin in 1858. Not long after the arrivals in 1809, "an Indian committed some depredation on Mr. Cowgill's family. The inhabitants from other neighborhoods came to their assistance, and at once proceeded to the Indian camp. The criminal, seeing them approach, and being left to his fate by the rest of the tribe, retired to his wigwam, and covered his head with his blanket, expecting immediate death. The whites instead took him a prisoner to Berkshire. The next morning his tribe came, with their faces painted red, in token of peace. As nothing was done with the prisoner. they soon left, but returned in the afternoon tattooed with black, as a declaration of war. Said they, 'Kill him, we nothing say, but no keep him to torture.' The settlers considering discretion the better part of valor, dismissed him on condition never to come back again. He was never seen there afterward." Another incident illustrates an unusual feature of the Indian. A company of them came one time and pitched their camp within a few rods of the cabin of Jonathan Thompson, who lived on the east side of the creek, on the Constant tract. They were of a generous turn, and made friendly advances to the "stranger," sending him a choice piece of meat when they killed a deer, and lending assistance frequently. Mr. Thompson, noticing that they remained near their wigwams on Sunday, asked them why they did not hunt on that day. The answer came, "No good Indian hunt Sunday; the Great Spirit see." There were numerous parties of these Indians attracted hither by the game or the maple trees, which afforded an excellent opportunity of making sugar, of which they were very fond. It was a great source of entertainment to the settlers to go to these camps in the evening, and visits were frequently made. The Indian had his own way of entertaining company, and was quite "put out" if his efforts to make himself agreeable were slighted. This was usually a banter to wrestle. His "hold" was neither "square" nor "side," nor "back hold," but a sort of back and side hold combined, which the settlers called Indian hug, and many of them became very proficient in it. On one occasion, old man Lewis, who was a vigorous man, with several others, was at the sugar camp. One of the braves bantered one after the other of the young men to wrestle, but got only excuses, and finally came to Mr. Lewis. He plead his age as an excuse, but the Indian was not to be put off, and they clinched. The story goes, that, after a vigorous tussle, Lewis got his foot well braced, and threw his antagonist heavily to the ground, who got up laughing as heartily as though he had been the victor. Joe and George Bigtree were Indians who were familiarly known in the Berlin settlement, and, during the war of 1812, were frequently there with faces painted red, indicative of their peaceful intentions. The seeds which had been so thoughtfully planted by Lovell Caulkins sprang up into a fruitful orchard-the only one in the settlement-and proved a boon to the whole community. Venison and turkeys were abundant, and the commoner sorts of vegetables ; but there was a lack of salt, leather, cooking utensils and iron goods, that proved a source of great privation. The markets were at Zanesville and Chillicothe, over a tedious path but imperfectly blazed out. The Alum Creek furnished an easier route that was considerably used by the settlers, though it had the same inconvenience with "sliding down hill''-the necessity of walking back. But half the way was a good deal to ride in those days, even at the expense of a canoe. On one occasion, three men made a canoe and went down the river to Chillicothe. On their return they walked, one carrying a back-load of salt, another bringing an iron pot, while the third shouldered a roll of leather. A similar undertaking, by David Lewis, Jr., did not result so successfully. Cutting down a large butternut on the banks of the creek, at the foot of the hill in front of his house he fashioned a canoe and launched out for Chillicothe. He had loaded his craft with skins and furs, proposing to buy salt with the proceeds. He was successful so far, and started home, carrying his precious load on his shoulder. It was no small undertaking, and each toile seemed to add weight to his load, but the thought of the comfort it would bring, and his near approach to home, made the burden lighter. This was then the time when the scriptural injunction. "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall," would have been most profitable. Crossing a stream on one of the impromptu bridges of that time a tree fallen across from bank to bank-he lost his footing, and, with his salt, fell into the water. His perishable load HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 455 dissolved in the stream, and, with his shoulder chafed with the burden, and smarting with the brine, he struggled empty-banded to the shore. His feelings at this loss can better be imagined than described. At another time three men went to Zanesville with three yoke of oxen, drawing a load of beef. They were destitute of money, and camped out, depending upon their flint and tinder for fire. Their hardships and difficulties were almost incredible, but by indomitable pluck and a perseverance that conquers all things, they returned with a load of hollow-ware, which was like a glimpse of civilization to the little settlement. Just here let us relieve the stern aspect of frontier life by a glimpse of life in the cabin. In the hurried review of the progress of the early settlements, we are apt to forget the cabin, where the "busy housewife plies her evening care," and lose sight of the romance that goes hand in hand with sterner facts. We venture to quote a further passage from Mrs Ripley's manuscript, prefacing it with the remark that the " Clara" referred to, is another name for `Miss Julia Caulkins. " One of our number found a devoted lover awaiting her coming. Previous to leaving Connecticut, she had been selected by an aged couple as the companion for a favorite grandson in Ohio, to whom they had willed their large estate, and who was expected to return to cheer and comfort their old age. Clara remembered him only as a noisy schoolboy, who loved play much better than study. She was not a little surprised, therefore, when she found him a tall young man, with an altogether prepossessing appearance. Of a family of six girls and one boy, and he engaged in the care of his own little family, Clara was glad to avail herself of so useful a companion, and thought it right to take such opportunities as were afforded to judge of his character. Frequent rambles in the woods led to thoughts above the sordid cares of life, but, while she quoted her favorite Thomson " 'These as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love ' - his conversation inclined to such themes as catching `coons and possums,' and on the probability of their being plenty of `hack'." Not to prolong the story, Clara was sent to the Berkshire Academy, A misspelled declaration and proposal soon followed her, which brought in return an expression of thanks, but regrets, etc. William not utterly cast down, went East to enter upon his inheritance, and soon wrote back that he had found a lady who was ready and willing to marry him on short notice. The years of 1811-13 brought to this community, as elsewhere in the Northwest, days of anxiety and nights of fear. After Harrison's brilliant victory over Tecumseh at Tippecanoe there was a temporary feeling of tranquillity only to be disturbed by the declaration of war with England. The foe was aware of the unprotected nature of the frontier settlements, and knew too well the inflammable material which could easily be kindled into a devastating flame of rapine and massacre in the most vulnerable part of our land. The danger proved in the event to be one of apprehension rather than reality, but it was none the less trying to the courage and fortitude of the settlers. Other counties have events in their history which loom up out of the past as great landmarks by which their progress is measured. In one it is the "deep snow," another dates before or since the "great epidemic," but Delaware County refers to the "great scare," and shows results only less terrible than death. There is something almost ludicrous in the story of "Drake's defeat," of one man stampeding a county with a joke, but when we note the incidents of men, women, and children frantic with fear, there is no space for levity. The alarm was not, puerile nor unfounded. Hull's surrender had removed the last restraint upon the savages, who needed none of England's emissaries to incite them to deeds of blood. This ignominious surrender had inspired them with a disrespect for the manliness of the American army, and it was but natural to expect that the unprotected settlements would offer a tempting prize to the savage mind. The report of Drake's defeat was, therefore, not entirely unexpected, and with it the settlements in Berlin knew their last defense on that line was gone. The report spread like wildfire among the settlers, whose anxious forebodings disposed them to accept it without question. "Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, and cheeks all white which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; * * * * * * * * And there was mounting in hot haste." The creek, unbridged, floating nearly banks high, seemed no impediment in the way of these fear impelled fugitives. Timid women for the nonce were bold as lions, and fearlessly plunged into the 456 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. stream only to be rescued from dangers that required experience not less than bravery to conquer. But when the re-action came, when the report of Drake's defeat was explained, the scene was not less disheartening. Articles of value, of clothing and food, were found indiscriminately jumbled together. One woman, even in the extremity of her fear, did not forget her silk dress, but, wrapping a package of candles in it, carefully, bestowed it in the bottom of the wagon. When it was afterward found, the difficulty was to discover which was dress and which candles. The wicks were there, but the tallow had been ground into the dress. leaving only an enormous grease spot to account for their absence. Another woman found a bag containing old boots and a confused mass of pies, bread, etc., which she had put up in case of need. Others had no wagons, or did not wait for them, but, making up bundles, put them on their shoulders, and forded the creek. The wife and children of Asa Scott carried so much in this way that it took a wagon to return the goods to the cabin. It was not until the settlers returned to their homes that the full extent of 'the disaster was realized. The residents had been absent for one, two and three days, and meanwhile the open doors and gates gave stock free access to corn-field and larder. Bed clothing, wearing apparel, furniture, dishes, the whole domestic economy of the cabin, was found in inextricable confusion. The loss experienced in various ways added a heavy burden to those already felt to be sufficiently severe, and gave rise to the determination to thereafter face the enemy on their own ground. Preparations were made at once for a suitable defense. The valuables of each family were buried in deep holes in the ground, care being taken to obliterate any traces of the cache. The community then determined to erect a blockhouse to which they could resort in times of special alarm. A site was chosen on the road passing along the west bank of the creek, on a rise of ground just south of where the roads cross near Cheshire, where the old cemetery now is. This structure was forty feet square, with two stories ; the upper story projecting over the lower one some two feet, afforded opportunities of defense against close attacks or attempts to fire the structure. It was built of hewed logs, a foot square, the ends securely joined so as not to leave the smallest crevice between the logs. There was no opening in the lower story save that of the door, which was made of a double thickness of three-inch planks, barred and cross barred. The upper story was furnished with rifle embrasures in the side, and convenient apertures in the floor of the projection for purposes of defense in a close attack. When built, the fort was well stocked with provisions and ammunition, so as to be ready at a moment's warning, and signals were arranged that the remoter settlements might learn of their danger. It was about this time that a party of settlers were out in the woods some distance from the improvements," clearing up a spot to build a cabin for some new arrival. Among the party were Chester and John Lewis, David Lewis, Sr., and Asa Scott, beside some boys who were there to look on or pile brush. As was the custom, each man had his gun near him, leaning against a tree, and David Lewis, Sr., was on duty as scout to note the approach of Indians. It was arranged that if he saw any he was to return and report " bears " in the woods. Sometime after noon, he was observed coming rapidly toward the party, and, as soon as he got within hearing, he said, "There are bear tracks in the woods, so fresh that the water has not yet settled in them." The men quietly ceased their work, took up their guns and prepared to put things in a state of defense. The boys were sent home, and, not to alarm the settlement, all but Chester and John Lewis slowly sauntered to the settlement. Then the state of the case was explained, and those families which were situated near at hand were escorted by the old men into the block-house. Blankets were hung up to divide off the space for families, guns were carefully scrutinized, and by nightfall everything at the fort was in readiness for an attack. But the cabins of some of the party of choppers were toe far off to make it prudent to try to reach the fort in the dark. Scott's cabin was some distance to the north of the road crossing, and the cabin of Jacob Aye was still further to the north and east of Scott's. There was a large family of boys and girls of the Ayes, and they felt reasonably secure, or had not learned of the discovery. Late that night, after the boys had gone to bed, one of the sisters, delayed by some household care, heard the dogs making a disturbance as though the cattle or hogs were prowling about. Soon she heard some one trying to quiet the dogs, and she at once concluded it was Indians. She made every preparation against being taken by surprise, but did not summon the boys, lest in their fool-hardiness they might rush out and be killed. The dogs finally HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 457. became quiet, and the Indians, going toward the block-house, came upon Scott's cabin. Here the dogs, who had an instinctive hatred of the savages, commenced rushing out into a corn-field near, and then back again against the cabin, growling manifesting symptoms of rage and fear. Old Mr. Scott knew what such conduct on the part of the dogs meant, and, calling up his two boys, prepared for defense. The windows were only closed by greased paper, and, stationing one with an as at each of the two windows, he gave them instructions to split the first head that came through. Putting out the glowing embers on the hearth, he barricaded the door with what movable furniture he could reach, and took a position with his rifle commanding all points of entrance. Here the Indians endeavored to pacify the dogs in vain, and finally passed along. Soon after, the Scott family heard a rifle shot, followed by a rapid succession of lighter guns, and then came, one, two, three in measured succession, the warning guns from the block-house. Meanwhile at the fort another scene was enacting. The little band cooped up in their narrow quarters momentarily expected an attack. After waiting for some time in such suspense, David Lewis, Sr., accompanied by Philo Hoadley, started cautiously out to reconnoiter. The night is described as admirable for this purpose. Clouds heavily veiled the moon so that an object standing out clear could be readily discerned, while one groping in the shadows and along the ground could be discovered only by close scrutiny. The land sinks from all points at the road crossing, forming there a sort of basin. South of the east and west road, a tree had been felled parallel with the road, and, falling down hill, had left some space between the butt of the tree and stump. Across this road was Hoadley's corn-field, divided from other land by a brush fence. Coming down to the crossing, a suspicious noise was heard in the corn-field, and Lewis remarked to Hoadley that there were either hogs, cattle, or Indians in his field. Listening attentively for a moment, he exclaimed, " There goes another ear; Hoadley, it's Indians!" Lewis, who was an excellent shot, and an intrepid man, told Hoadley to remain at the crossing, and, taking shelter behind the trunk and top of the fallen tree, he would gain the rise of ground by the stump, and scan the corn-field situated across the road and on a little lower ground. Lewis succeeded in reaching the stump, and, ensconcing himself among the shadows between the tree and stump, awaited the issue of events. Soon he saw a dark body jump upon the brush fence and over, and then another, but his practiced eye had seen the second one over the sights of his gun, the report of which was followed by a heavy falling of the body. Lewis immediately made for the fort as fast as his feet could carry him, with Hoadley just in advance. There was a discharge of several guns in rapid succession from the corn-field, and Lewis, striking his knee against the stump of some sapling that had been cut off, went sprawling to the ground. He imagined himself shot, but, regaining his feet, made for the fort. Within the fort everybody was on the alert, and Roswell Caulkins stood sentinel at the door. As Lewis and Hoadley came rushing up to gain entrance, Caulkins hesitated to unbar the door. David Lewis, Jr., who was celebrated as a keen hunter and woodsman, recognized the steps of their comrades, and cried to the sentinel, "Roswell, unbar the door, unbar the door! Those are shoes that are coming. It's father and Philo !" and, before the sentinel comprehended the force of what young Lewis was saying, the bars had been taken down by others, and the two men, half out of breath, admitted. The feelings of those within the fort. can be better described by one who was there, and we add from Mrs. Ripley's manuscript: " An attack was every moment expected. The alarm guns were fired. The horrid work of the scalp in, knife and uplifted tomahawk was, in imagination, ready to be executed. There was neither shrieking nor fainting, but the women stood at their posts in the upper story, prepared for defense." Happily their expectations were not realized. The next morning broke on their anxious hearts calm and bright, and, as no traces of Indians could be discovered from the blockhouse, a party went out to see if the settlers in isolated cabins had been massacred. They were found, as we have related, frightened but not harmed. In the corn-field were found moccasin tracks with considerable traces of blood. The trail led off to the northwest, and indicated that one of their number had been carried. Who they were or what was the reason of their visit, has been the subject of considerable conjecture, but. it has never reached a satisfactory explanation. In recalling the experience of the pioneers, it is necessary to call the attention of the reader to the fact that these men and women, who braved the untried difficulties of the woods, were people not unlike ourselves. It is a common mistake to imagine that they were of a ruder sort of people, 458 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. akin to the foreign emigration of to-day. There could be no greater misapprehension. They came from the proudest stock of New England, from homes of refinement, sometimes from homes surrounded by all the luxuries that culture and wealth could bestow ; and it is one of those mysterious ways in which God moves, "His wonders to perform," this providential adaptation of means to ends. At that time, our civilization was on a less secure basis than now. The pioneer was not only the architect of his own fortune, but of that of the State which grew out of his pioneer efforts, and the pressing demand was for stanch men, from the lowest rank up. Every man was a hero in the strife, and the result is the civilization of which we boast to-day. With this fact in mind, we get a deeper realization of the privations of the pioneer. The roughest work was to be done, and they did it. The closest economy was to be enforced, and they practiced it. The hidden mystery of the woodman's craft was to be learned, and they sounded it to its lowest depth. In the Berlin settlement there were some who bought as much as 1,000 acres of land, others 250 and 100 acres of land, but all were on the same level of social equality. There was a novelty at first which dispelled discontent, and, later, the pressing duties of the settlement gave it no place. All wore the same kind of home-made clothing, made in the cabin from the flax of their own growing. In their amusements, they accepted the traditions of the settlements, and made no efforts to transplant the effeminate customs of a less hardy community. Weddings, huskings and logging bees afforded occasions for romping games, and the rustic dance, " when toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labor free, Led up their sports." There was a more serious side to this life in the woods as well. The scarcity of society knit the settlements, for miles around, in a common bond of friendship. Journeys of miles were under. taken through the woods to interchange greetings, and were often the result of experiences that would scarcely be braved now in the path of duty. Mrs. Ripley relates an instance of her going, in company with a girl companion, to visit friends in another settlement. Returning home, they found themselves deep in the forest when the night closed in upon them. With no guide but the blazed trees, they found themselves in a frightful dilemma and without a resource. They dismounted and sought the signs of a habitation far and near, without success. "At length," she writes, "ascending an eminence, we discovered sparks of fire rising above the trees at a distance, and, hastening to this faint light, we found a man piling and burning brush. Amazed at our appearance, he listened to our story, and, taking a torch, found our horses. Lighting another brand, he kindly offered to pilot us home. Galloping rapidly in advance, he held the torch high above his head, and we as rapidly followed, reaching our home in safety. Gratitude to our kind deliverer from a night of terror, was equaled only by our joy on reaching home." But all experiences were, unfortunately, not so happily ended. Mrs. Ripley relates one, which we give in her own words : " Early one morning, a young woman came on horseback to our door, with disheveled hair and torn dress, looking the very personification of despair. ' Oh, my God!' she cried, ' I have been lost all night in the woods !' Riding alone the preceding day, she accidentally lost the path, and rode on without knowing in what direction, until she saw the dark shadows of night closing around her. After tying her horse, she found a tree which she could climb, and ascended it almost to the top. Fearful of falling, she tied her bonnet and long hair to a branch, and, grasping another with both hands, passed the long hours before dawn. During the night a storm came up, and with the drenching rain came the flashing lightning and the thunder's roar, rendering her nearly frantic with terror. In her despair she saw the glaring eyes of wild beasts, while the pawing of her snorting horse added confirmation to her fears. The shipwrecked mariner never beheld with more joy the coming day, but her limbs were swollen and she found herself unable to mount her horse. She led the animal, and, striking a wagon trail, she came out ten miles from her home, whence she was escorted to her friends." Such experiences were not confined to the women. Men were lost, and, at times, the whole settlement was called out, with guns and horns, to bring them in. There were one or two hunters in the Berlin settlements who gained considerable local popularity. Among these were David Lewis, Jr., Thomas J. Scott, and Hiram and Walter May. Game was abundant, and the hunting adventures of these men were the theme of many an interesting tale. They are all gone save Scott, who lives his life PAGE 459 & 460 NOT USED HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 461 anew, in telling of the game that once stalked through the woods. The period after the war was one of severe hardship to the new settlements in Berlin. During the war, though the settlement was in a chronic state of fear, a condition not calculated to increase the prosperity of the young community, yet the demands of the army offered a market which stimulated production, and, at the same time, gave them a taste of comforts which soon became necessities. The cessation of hostilities cut off this market, and left the surplus accruing from this over-stimulated production on their hands. There was no market for what the settlements had to sell, money ceased to circulate, and a season of privation set in which proved the harder to bear from the fact that they had begun to enjoy some of the commoner comforts of older communities. Farmers now found it almost impossible to secure enough currency to pay their taxes. Wheat, corn, furs, beef and pork, they began to have in abundance, but, no market. Before the war they only thought of living and making their homes comfortable, but,, under the stimulating influence of the war, they had largely increased their power of producing, and now the cry was for a market. Trade among themselves had been reduced to the primitive system of barter, and money was to be got only from outside parties. An incident related of these times illustrates this money stringency very forcibly. A traveler passing through the settlement, one May day, stopped at a house for refreshments, for which he paid 12 1/2 cents. The host remarked as he received the silver in his hand, "This must be laid by toward paying our taxes in the fall." A woman went to Columbus with produce to trade for household necessities, taking, among other things, sixteen pounds of butter. All she could get for this was a cotton pocket-handkerchief which could now be bought for a shilling. Another instance is related of a man who had a letter in the post office, the postage on which amounted to 12 1/2 cents, and was unpaid. Destitute of money, he took a bushel of wheat and offered it to the Postmaster for the amount due on the letter, but was refused. Corn was worth 12 1/2 cents per bushel in trade, and was not readily disposed of at that. Staple goods rose to a fearful price, which almost drove them out of the market. Salt, a commodity which all must have, cost $18 per barrel, and one man gave 150 bushels of corn for one barrel of this article. Maple sugar could be got in abundance, and was a luxury in which the settlers indulged without stint. One woman, at an early date when household utensils were more scarce, made 250 pounds of sugar in one season, in a six-quart kettle and a frying-pan. Its very abundance, however, spoiled any market it might have had, and it proved no source of revenue. About 1830, the influence of the canal which connects the Ohio River with the lake began to be felt, and business began to revive. During the money stringency succeeding the war, another disaster overtook the frontier homes. Heretofore the community had known but little of sickness. In ten years there had been but six deaths, four children and two adults. Now a miasmatic epidemic spread over the frontier,which visited every cabin, and few families were so fortunate as to escape without losing a member. The epidemic took on the nature of a plague, many deaths occurring under distressing circumstances. At the end of the first decade of Berlin's history there-were about forty families in the township. About twenty of these had come from Waterbury, Conn., and settled on the Constant purchase in the southeast part of the township. Among these there had been eight marriages, the first of which, as well as the first occasion of the kind in the township, was that of Elias Adams to Harriet Lewis, by the Rev. Joseph Hughs. On the Byxbe purchase there were some ten families from various places, several of them being from Virginia. In the northwest quarter there were some eight families, the rest of the township being too low and swampy to attract settlers. During this decade there had been but six deaths, four children and two adults. The first event of the kind in the township was the death of Elanson Lewis, who died in 1807, and was buried in the old burying-ground where the block-house once stood. The next adult was Emma Lewis, who died in 1811, and was buried east of the creek. In the historical sermon delivered by Rev. John W. Thompson, we find the following in regard to the increase of population after this time: "It is," says he, " doubtful whether there are as many inhabitants on the eastern half of the township as there were ten years ago. During the last twenty-five years the southwest part, which hitherto had remained an unbroken forest, has been filled up with inhabitants, thus maintaining the average 10 per cent increase in the population of the township. The present number of families in the township is not far from two hundred and fifty, probably a little over, making an increase of five 462 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. families per year from the first settlement. The first vote, which was in the fall of 1820, was 72. The average vote for the succeeding five years was 71, the highest number of ballots cast being 79, and the lowest number 48. From 1825 to 1835, the whole vote was 743, making an average annual vote of 74, with the highest number of votes cast 79, and the lowest 66. For the decade ending 1845, the highest number of ballots cast at any election was 185, the lowest, 123, making an average of 140. During the last decade the average has been 172, with the highest and lowest number of votes cast at 210 and 109 respectively. Not one man has voted at every State election. Two men have missed only two State elections, Allward Smith and Lovell Caulkins. Of the seventy-two who voted at the first election, only eight are now (1858) living in the township. Of the twenty families who came out during the first decade and settled in the southeast quarter, only nine of the parents remain-Jesse Armstrong and wife, David Lewis and wife, Lovel Caulkins and wife, Mrs. Chloe Scott, Mrs. Lois Dickerman, and Mrs. Betsy Thompson. Of those who came and settled in this quarter (near Cheshire) of the township previous to 1807, only David Lewis and wife remain. Of those who came in 1807, the widow of Asa Scott is the sole survivor. Of the five families who came in 1809, Lovell Caulkins and wife are all that are left. These stand while all the rest that were twenty years old or upward have passed away." In 1820, Berlin was organized according to the original survey, and received its name at the suggestion of Asa Scott. He was at the time Treasurer of the section of country known then as Berkshire, which included Berlin. On looking over the subject he discovered that there were inhabitants enough to warrant a separate organization, and at once headed a petition to the Commissioners to that effect. Dr. Loofbourrow was made Township Clerk, and Joseph Eaton Justice of the Peace, while Scott was continued in his position of Treasurer for Berlin at the first election. The first mechanic in the township was Roswell Caulkins, who was skilled in carpentering and joining While he gave much of his time to clearing u his farm, he still found time to devote to his trade One of his first pieces of work was a loom made for Mrs. Chloe Scott. He did also the most of the hewing on the block-house and superintended its construction. The first frame dwellings were erected in 1820, one by James Eaton, and another by Daniel Nettleby, both east of the creek, near Cheshire, Eaton's being nearer the town line. The first store, or place where goods were offered for sale, was located south of Cheshire, in a cabin, and kept by Nathan Sherwood. Up to the time of the epidemic, about 1815, there had been but little sickness, but the presence of so many swamps hidden from the purifying action of the sun, gave rise to considerable miasmatic fevers. Such ailments the "folk lore" of the pioneers found no trouble in curing with sundry decoctions of herbs. Occasionally they had recourse to a Dr. Hanley, who had been formerly a surgeon in the Revolutionary army, and had settled in Berkshire. In the matter of pioneer industries, it was the demand for them which regulated the order of their establishment. First came the mills, saw and grist, both coming close together. The demand for a mill located near the settlement to grind the wheat and corn, was a very pressing one. Almost every settlement sooner or later, had a grist-mill, but, owing to the crudeness of their machinery, and its limited grinding power, there never was any danger of the business being overdone. A few bags of grain stocked the mill, and later comers from a distance were obliged to camp out, while thev waited their turn to be served. Closely disputing precedence with this came tote saw-mill. The first home depended principally upon such furniture as could be made in the woods. The way was too long, and transportation too meager, to bring it from the East. Floors, when any were had, were made from puncheons, logs split up into sections, two or three inches thick. Of this material were tables, seats and all this class of furniture made. Bedsteads were constructed with one leg, which supported one foot and one side rail, the other ends finding support in holes bored in the logs of the house. This frame, united by a bed-cord brought from the East, or a grapevine which served the same purpose, made the foundation for a superstructure of skins, blankets, etc. Under such circumstances the saw-mill would find patronage second; at least, only to the grist-mill. The first of these mills was built in Berlin, by Nathaniel Hall, in 1808, on Alum Creek, near the Delaware and Sunbury pike. In 1814, Joseph Lewis built a grist-mill and a saw-mill, near Cheshire. The demand for a market for the surplus crop of corn brought in response a distillery in almost every settlement. There were two established at an early date in Berlin. One was built by Hall, near where his mill stood, and HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 463 another near property owned by E. P. Sanders. The One erected near Cheshire was built by Isaac and Chester Lewis about 1816. The business was conducted by Armstrong and Frost, who made it an attractive resort for those who had time and inclination to loaf there. They did not last long, however; trade was poor, as the habit of drinking was not as generally practiced here as elsewhere. The tannery was prominent among the established industries of the early settlements. There was an ample demand for leather, but, like the Israelitish brick-makers, they found it difficult to furnish the material without the means of making it. Hides were difficult to obtain. The settlers had no more cattle than they needed for the working of their farms. Hogs were in abundance, and, running wild for six or seven years, had hides of remarkable thickness. These when killed were skinned, to furnish a sort of tough, coarse leather, which supplied harnesses and horse collars. Later, a murrain got among the cattle, and carried them off in large numbers, furnishing plenty of good leather, but at a serious loss to the pioneers. The first tannery in the township was built by Wilbur Caswell in 1817, on Alum Creek, at Cheshire. The tannery first stood down on the flats, near the stream, for some years. It was then moved on to the hill, near where he now lives, and continued until 1858. A tannery was built at an early date, on the Berkshire road, by the Dunhams, but the time is uncertain. Berlin is situated away from any direct line of travel, save the Delaware, Berkshire and Sunbury pike, and, consequently, had no call for a tavern, though there is said to have been one at Cheshire when it was first laid out. Alum Creek Post Office is a point of interest, located on the pike between Delaware and Sunbury. A post office has been located here for years, at a private house about half a mile west o the place, which affords the chilled traveler in winter a comfortable place to warm while the mail is sorting. A church building adds dignity to the name, and serves to mark the place. Cheshire, located east of the central part, is the only village in the township. Samuel Adam owned the farm on which the village now stands and laid it off into lots. The first store was a room about seven by nine feet, and was kept by L. R. Ryant. He bought his goods in Columbus and brought them here in a wagon on the 15th of October, 1847. A few years afterward he added another room for a shoeshop, where he sold ready-made goods and manufactured to order. Mr. Ryant was also the first Postmaster, his commission being dated August 10, 1851. The post office is called Constantia, from Joseph Constant Lewis, the first child born in Berlin. The village is located on a barren clay knoll, a location which gave rise to a name which attained quite a local popularity. Jesse Hultz gave it the name of Peth, from a place similarly situated in New York, "for," in explanation, said he, "what! don't run away will starve to death." A saw-mill and grist-mill combined was built here in 1855, by Daniel Nettleton. The structure is much smaller than originally constructed. Mr. Nettle ton intended to add a carriage factory, but the excitement 'brought on by the undertaking prostrated him with a nervous disease which put a stop to the enterprise. A fine cemetery ground is located just south of Cheshire, which was laid out by the "Nettleton Grove Bank Cemetery Association," organized October 10, 1853. The first officers were Joel Cleveland, President; Lewis Thompson Clerk, and Vinal Steward, Treasurer. The oldest cemetery is the one where the block-house stood, on the west side of the creek, but it is rapidly going to decay.' Another, near the town hall, on the road to Berlin station, contains many of the first settlers. Here an old storm-beaten stone bears the legend - Here rest the remains of JOSEPH EATON, who departed this life Feb. 8, A. D. 1825, aged 59 years. He emigrated from the State of Pennsylvania, A. D. 1805. He was the son of DAVID EATON; which was the son of JOHN EATON; which was the son of JOSEPH EATON; which was the son of JOHN EATON; who emigrated from Wales, A. D. 1686. The village is made up of two country stores of the smaller size, the post office, a saw and grist mill, a slat window-shade manufactory and two churches. Berlin Station is simply what its name implies, a railway station. The first agent put in a stock of groceries and was the pioneer in both respects. 464 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. There is now a grocery, a saw-mill, a wagon-maker's shop, a post office, a church building and a the factory, at this place. The latter enterprise bids fair to reach large proportions. There is a large demand for drainage material, and the proprietors are active business men, who are well calculated to achieve success. The business has already developed a vigorous growth, and Berlin Station can well afford to nourish such an enterprise in its midst. Another place should be mentioned, which, though it does not now appear on the map of the county, promised at one time to rival the larger villages of this section. It was laid out, in 1850, by J. R. Hubbell and Thomas Carney, just where the railroad crosses the Berkshire pike. At that time, the railroad did not go to Delaware, and it was expected by the founders of this village that a depot would be established there. Some eighty lots were laid out and sold, a warehouse was built, and efforts put forth to stimulate the growth of the town. The railroad, however, had a larger town to deal with, and, in compromising with Delaware, placed its depot about two miles south, in the woods. Soon afterward, the curve was built to Delaware, which gave a finishing blow to the new venture, and, about ten years after its founding, "Berlin " returned to its rustic pursuits. The Baptist Church was the first to take the field in Berlin, in the person of a Rev. Mr. Wyatt. A church of this denomination had been formed in the Olentangy Valley, in Liberty Township, as early as 1806. Mr. Wyatt was their Pastor, and he came into this township about once a month to preach in the cabins about. He carried on his work as far east as Trenton, receiving such as wished to join the church into the organization at Liberty. From time to time, as the membership in the various localities would warrant, they were set off from the parent church at Liberty, into separate organizations. This distribution of churches, together with the increase of like faith in Berlin, made Alum Creek the central point for meetings. In 1816, they met for the first time in the block-house, which, having served the community in time of war, was called upon to play a nobler part in time of peace. For eight years the Baptist Church held its meetings here, when it was voted to change its name to the Berlin Baptist Church, and, in that. year, erected the frame building, where lies the burying-ground on the road to Berlin Station. This building is now the town hall. Among the members, at that time, were Isaac Monroe, David Lewis, Sr., Joseph Eaton, and their wives; John Johnson, Sarah Brandy and Polly Noko ; the two latter were colored women. Sarah Brandy died at the age of 114 years. She had been a servant in George Washington's family, and been for a long time connected with the family of Gen. Sullivan, of Revolutionary fame. It was the habit of Gen. Sullivan to send to Joseph Eaton a small sum of money each year, to provide Sarah with such comforts as tea, sugar, coffee, etc. In 1854, the Baptist church building now standing in Chesbire was built, at a cost of some $700. Rev. Philander Kelsey was the first Pastor in this edifice. It was dedicated on the last day of the year, and a bell was hung in it the following year. Elder Jacob Drake was early on the ground, and co-operated with Mr. Wyatt. He was a surveyor, and was much among the people. He preached in the cabins, especially in those of Mr. Lewis and Roswell Caulkins. An incident is related which shows that "chickens " were not considered then the only thing fit for a minister to eat. He came out from Delaware one morning, in 1808, before breakfast., and a meal was prepared for him. The table was a puncheon, neatly smoothed of on the upper side, supported by pins driven into the logs of the cabin. When the meal was announced, he sat down to a single baked potato, with salt in a clam shell, and water in a gourd. This was the fare offered a minister, who had walked seven miles for his breakfast, and it is said he seemed to relish it as well as though it had been a fine dinner. The Presbyterian Church came second in chronological order, its first minister being a Mr. Stevens, who came to Berlin on a missionary tour of exploration. Rev. Ebenezer Washburn, of Berkshire, was on the ground at an early date. Revs. Matthews, Taylor, Hughs and Hoge were f contemporary with him. At an early time an organization of a Presbyterian church in Berkshire was called the Berkshire and Kingston Church, with a constituency extending from Kingston to Orange, and this continued to be the center of this denominational influence until 1828, the year of the great revival, when that part of the church south of Berkshire was set off and formed into the Presbyterian Church of Berlin. Among the number set off there were four elders, John Roloson, Paul Ferson, Milton Sackett, and Stephen Chandler. These composed the session of the new church, which at once proceeded to build a place of wor- HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 465 ship. The building is situated just south of Cheshire, and is a neat frame building, which cost some $700. The minister at this time was the Rev. Ahab Jinks. This man was peculiar in more respects than in his name. It is said, that, when a boy, he was the leader of a godless band of young ruffians, for whose sport he would mimic the preachers he heard, giving, their sermons verbatim. Going to hear Dean Swift, his course of life was changed, and he turned his ability to ward the right. His trick of memory never left him, and led to some contretemps in which he was the least confused party. On one occasion he preached from Isaiah i, 2, an especially brilliant sermon to his parishioners in Berlin, which greatly impressed them, and it was generally remarked, that the minister had outdone himself. One of his parishioners went to Genoa in the afternoon, where he heard, to his utmost astonishment, the same identical sermon, delivered by Rev. Mr. Judson, the earliest of the Sunday-school agents. At another time, desiring to get up a camp-meeting in Berlin, Mr. Jinks preached a sermon which carried every obstacle before it, and aroused the people to the pitch of camp-meeting fervor. The arrangements were made for the meeting in the Dickerman woods, and it was carried on with great. success. Near the close, Mr. Jinks invited a Rev. Mr. Pomeroy to assist in conducting the meetings. He came and delivered for his first effort the very sermon which had so aroused the people some time before. When asked to explain these coincidences, Mr. Jinks quietly remarked that he had heard them delivered, considered them good sermons. and thought he would give his parishioners the benefit of them. In 1832, Rev. Calvin Ransom was installed Pastor of this church. Five years later Rev. D. C. Allen succeeded him, and he in turn, after a few months, was succeeded by Rev. H. Shedd. In 1814, Rev. A. S. Avery was called, and in 1845, Rev. John W. Thompson was installed Pastor, and continued for along time as Pastor of this church. Another church of this denomination was established at Berlin Station in 1876. The church was organized January 16, 1876, with nineteen members, and, in the fall of that year a church building, costing some $1,700, was built. The church edifice is a neat one indeed, furnished with inside blinds, and presenting a very attractive appearance. The membership is now about sixty-nine. Rev. Thomas Hill is Pastor. The Methodist Episcopal Church is the next organization in point of time in this township. Rev. Vinal Steward was the first minister of this denomination in the township. He came in 1814, and soon after organized a class, composed of Jacob Aye and wife, and his children-John, Jacob, Jr., Henry, Betsy, Katie, Polly and Peggy ; Lewis Sherwood and wife, and John Lewis and wife. About 1829, they put up a hewed-log meetinghouse, a little north of Cheshire Corners, in which they worshiped until 1845, when they held their services in the Presbyterian building. Some three years later the church erected their present place of worship in Cheshire at a cost of $500, dedicating it in 1849. In 1878, the society added a bell. The Cottonwood Wesleyan Church is located in the southwest corner of the township. It was called the Fairview M. E. Church about 1854, and continued for some twenty years. This organization died out about 1874, when the Christian Union occupied the building for about five years. On March 20, 1879, the Wesleyan Methodist Church was organized with fifteen members, and occupied the church. Mrs. Jacob Colflesh is Class Leader, and B. Hartley, Steward. Rev. Mr. Teter preached for two years here before the organization of a church, and was succeeded by Rev. L. White. Services, Sunday school and prayer-meetings are maintained throughout the . year. The church has a seating capacity of one hundred and fifty, where services are held every alternate Sunday. The Peach Blow Church, in the southern part of the township, belongs to the United Brethren denomination. It was organized in 1857, with about twenty members. Their meetings were first held in the schoolhouse on the west side of the township until the following year, when the present place of worship was erected on land belonging to G. A. Stover. The building, a neat frame, cost about $700. The first Pastor was Virgil Pond ; the present one is Rev. Daniel Bonebreak. A good Sunday school is maintained the entire year. The tradition in regard to the name of the church is an interesting one. It was dedicated as Berlin Chapel. The trustees who had the matter in charge, decided to have the church painted white, but a third trustee, when the painter came on the ground, directed him to paint it red. So sash and woodwork, and altar soon glowed in that sanguinary hue. The astonishment of the majority of the Trustee Board can be better imagined than described. The minority member explained that he had a preference for the delicate tint of the peach-blow, and had thus changed the instructions 466 - HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. of the painter. The final upshot of the whole matter was that the peach-blow member retired from the unappreciative church, and the color of the church changed to white, but the name of peach-blow still adheres to the church. A few members of this denomination were settled about Alum Creek Post Office, and, previous to 1860, held meetings at the residence of O. R. May. About this time the project of building a church was inaugurated, and, with the earnest support of such men as Mr. May and Nathaniel Holoson, soon became an accomplished fact. The church is known as the North Berlin U. B. Church, although it was one of the conditions of Mr. Roloson's aid that it should be open to the use of all denominations. This gentleman gave the land on which the building stands. The first Pastor was Rev. William Davis. They maintain Sunday schools in the summer. The Universalists, in 1820, made a short-lived attempt to gain a foothold for their doctrines. They held a camp-meeting in a grove near the bridge, south of Cheshire, a Mr. Rogers conducting the services. The effort created some little excitement among the evangelical organizations, but produced no permanent results. An incident is related in connection with this effort, which, for the time, created quite an animated discussion in church circles. One Sunday morning as the people assembled it was discovered that there was no pulpit. Of course, one must be had, and tools and axes were brought out to supply the missing enginery of the church. It is said that some from the evangelical churches aided in this work on Sundry, much to the scandal of the Christian community. Some ten years later a Mormon missionary made a visit and held a few meetings, but made no impression on the steady-going, people. In the matter of temperance, the first agitation was begun in public in 1832. A meeting was held in the brick schoolhouse across the street from where the Presbyterian church now stands, just south of Cheshire. A pledge had been proposed with two or three names attached, and at the meeting some eighteen more names were secured. A society was formed, and many more united. This pledge, however, did not exclude vinous or fermented liquors. About 1840, the movement in favor of total abstinence became general throughout the country, and the result in Berlin was to drive a good many out of the temperance society here.With the progress of thought, the sentiment of this community has advanced, and Berlin is abreast with the rest of the world in matters of temperance. Not a drop of liquor is offered for sale within her borders. About 1840, the pro-slavery sentiment in Berlin was very pronounced. No discussion of this absorbing question could be calmly carried on, and the presence of an "Abolitionist " created more excitement than the passage of a show Dow does among the children. Later, when anti-slavery sentiments had reached a larger growth, the flight of fugitive slaves was only conducted in safety when the darkness of night afforded concealment. But, notwithstanding these untoward circumstances, the "underground railroad" passed right through the village of Cheshire. From Orange along Alum Creek the fugitive from bondage made his way with the friendly aid of earnest men to Cheshire, thence to the Quaker settlement and then on to Oberlin, or some other outlet. But all that had long since changed, and ever honest man now goes his way without let or hinderance. Sunday schools were early established, though not of the form we know in these days. The first effort in this respect was probably in 1815, by Mr. Goodhue, in the cabin occupied by the Widow Byxbe, sister-in-law of Col. Byxbe. There is no tradition in regard to its character or its results. Later, James and Paul Ferson, of Orange, taught a Sunday school. Mrs. Gregory, who lived at Berkshire, had an occasion to go East about the time when the interest in Sunday schools was at its highest there, and became greatly interested in the subject of introducing them in the West. On her return home, she communicated her enthusiasm to the Ferson brothers, who became prominent in Sabbath-school work, establishing at various places schools on the plan inaugurated at the East. The first school in this township was taught by Joseph Eaton, in a cabin which stood west of Alum Creek, and a half or three-quarters of a mile north of the old Baptist meeting-house. The second was taught by Lucy Caulkins, in a cabin Dear where the block-house stood, about 1810. The first schoolhouse was built just south of the block-house, on a ridge of land which overlooks the creek, but was not much used. It was of the rudest sort, built of round logs, with paper windows, bark roof and puncheon furniture. A school was taught in a cabin near the bridge, opposite the place of John Jones. After this, the block-house furnished good accommodations for school as well as church, and was used for some years. There HISTORY OF DELAWARE COUNTY. - 467 were, in 1818; but four schoolhouses in the township, with an enumeration of about 100. They were distributed as follows: one in the northwest quarter, two in the northeast quarter-i. e., one in the Durham settlement, and the other in the Eaton neighborhood-and one in the southeast quarter, situated across from the Presbyterian church, south of Cheshire. Peletier Morgan, an old Revolutionary soldier, was one of the early teachers in this latter schoolhouse. He carried his whisky in a wooden bottle regularly to school, and divided his attention between that and his pupils. A brick schoolhouse was substituted for this old one in 1826, with Joseph p. Smith as first teacher. The children of that day were not different from those of to-day. Full of mischief, they watched the teacher's eye, and were on furtive mischief bent at all times. An anecdote is told of Thomas Scott and Harry Hoadley getting bumped against the logs of the block-house by the teacher for punishment. The justice of the punishment they never questioned, but they sought to evade it in the future by having their heads literally shaved. At another time, a boy of eight years was observed weeping bitterly, and leading a youngster of some four years, who evidently did not comprehend the disturbance. On being asked the cause of his grief, the boy blubbered out that his brother "didn't seem to feel the importance of business, and he was afraid he never would." What solace could be offered to a mind thus stricken with grief, it is hard to conceive, but of such were the boys of the pioneers. Spelling-schools and singing-schools were engaged in at that time with tar more zest than has come down with those institutions to us. And in the part not laid down in the programme the going home with the girls-there was a zest which shows itself in the very stories of the time. Milton Sackett relates an incident which pictures forth the society of that day in a vivid manner. As is often the case nowadays, two boys had their hearts and attentions set upon one girl, and both proposed to himself to escort her home. While one of the contestants was lighting his torch of hickory at the old block-house fire-place, his rival, who had been quicker than he, just placed his torch in close proximity with the other's coattail. Of course there was a sudden hurrying about to extinguish the blazing coattail, but, in the mean while, the shrewd incendiary had gone off with the girl, leaving his rival to grieve over the lacerated state of his feelings, as well as that of his coat-tail. Since the earliest authentic data at command 1837-the yearly increase in school population has been from 10 to 12 per cent. In 1837, the enumeration was 340; in 1858, about 530. The number in the last enumeration has fallen to 288. In 1837, there were seven schoolhouses; in 1845, there were ten; in 1853, there were thirteen ; now there are but ten. Of these ten, all but two are good, substantial brick structures, furnished with improved school furniture. Ladies are largely employed as teachers, receiving from $18 to $25 per month. Gentlemen receive $35 per month. These prices are without board. In compiling the above pages we have been greatly indebted to the manuscript of Mrs. Ripley, and to an historical sermon by the Rev. J. W. Thompson. These papers were written during the life of some of the original settlers, and clothe the scenes of long ago with a romantic interest that can be felt but not copied. To those whose ancestors came here as early settlers, as they trace their history in these pages, there must come as to no one else a feeling that " Something beautiful is vanished, which we sigh for now in vain: We behold it everywhere, On the earth, and in the air, But it never comes again." (RETURN TO THE TITLE PAGE)