900 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY from those on board, soon dispelled the recollections of the past, and created emotions of a different, though not less exciting character. "Immediately on landing we repaired to the old green fort. Independent of the association which will ever render the spot hallowed ground in the heart of all true, patriotic Americans, a place more eminently beautiful or one better fitted for a celebration like that in which we were about to participate, could not be found in our broad land. The site of the fort is on the brow of the right bank of the river, nearly an hundred feet above the water, to which the descent, though covered with the greenest sward, is almost precipitous. On the land side sweeps around in a crescent form a ravine, which, together with the river, partially insulates the fort, and must have contributed essentially to the defense of the place. The fosse, or ditch, the glacis, the sally ports, though overgrown with short thick grass, are all distinctly defined. Beneath, for many a mile stretches the luxuriant valley of the Maumee, the broad river dotted with islands fading away into the dim, hazy distance, and reflecting like polished silver the bright rays of an unclouded sun. The banks present a most charming view. They are in a high state of cultivation in the vicinity of Perrysburg and Maumee, and with the neat villa-like houses of the proprietors crowning the heights and relieved by the fine specimens of the primeval forest which good taste has allowed to remain, the background filled up with the dark, silent and solemn woods, made a picture of surpassing beauty. "It having been understood that General Harrison, who, with his companions and former aids, Colonel Todd and Majors Clarkson and Oliver, had spent the night preceding at Sandusky, would arrive in the boat of the same name at Toledo, in the afternoon, the committee of arrangements delegated to a committee consisting of Messrs. Taylor, Choules, Clapp and Stagg, of this city, and a detachment of the Buffalo Volunteer Military Corps, under command of Captain Vaughn, the pleasing task of receiving the hero and escorting him to Perrysburg. They left in the Perry for Toledo soon after our arrival. The interval between their departure and return we spent in viewing the localities about the fort, and noting the fresh arrivals. Immense multitudes were already on the ground, and they continued to pour in by thousands. More than 500 wagons came in one single procession. The van of the line was formed by the Richland County delega- TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 901 tion, who came a distance of more than 100 miles, in 123 wagons. We attempted at first to particularize each different delegation with the equipages, banners, mottos and badges, but we were soon obliged to give up in despair. A description of these things would more than fill our whole paper. Many of them were capital, some whimsical, others sarcastic, but none tame or spiritless—all had their point. "About 6 o'clock in the evening the steamboats Sandusky and Perry came in sight, and as they approached the town, the trees, the roofs of houses, the decks and rigging of the steamboats lying at the wharves, were covered by the thronging thousands anxious to obtain a view of the venerable chief. He landed under a salute of seventeen guns, fired by a detachment of the Buffalo flying artillery, which was responded to by the cannon on board each of the ten or dozen steamboats, and the still louder cheers of the immense multitude. The General was deeply affected, but the lateness of the hour and the fatigue of the journey precluded anything more than a simple acknowledgment of the demonstrations of affectionate attachment with which he was greeted. Entering a barouche and preceded by his escort, he immediately repaired to the fort, followed by the thousands who had assembled to witness his debarkation. There he was welcomed by another salute of seventeen guns from the Buffalo artillery. Twenty-seven years have elapsed since General Harrison had visited the fort, and as he viewed the scene of so much privation, suffering and triumph, and marked in their turn the spots where the desperate struggle or successful sally had been made, all will pardon the sensibility that could not restrain a tear to the memory of those who so gallantly with him maintained the honor and defense of the country in its hour of most imminent peril. After riding slowly round the fort, and passing in review the troops drawn up to receive him, the General, in company with his suite, returned to town and took up his quarters at the hospitable mansion of Judge Hollister. "As night came on, the old fort presented one of the most picturesque views imaginable. Great numbers of people had come in during the afternoon from the neighboring states of Indiana and Michigan, and the more distant counties of Ohio, and by 9 o'clock there could not have been less than 20,000 on the ground. These were divided into groups of from 1,000 to 5,000 men, listening to and cheering some favorite speaker or singing Tippecanoe songs. It is surprising, the spirit with which 902 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY their hymns are sung. All know the words and the tunes, and when one hears them chanted as by a common impulse by many thousands of farmers, mechanics and hard working artisans of every description, he will be pretty thoroughly convinced that a spirit is abroad that cannot be stayed or put down. "On the brow of the bank, and on the edge of the neighboring forest, were ranged the white tents of the military and citizens. The heavens were without a cloud, the moon was up, and under the softened and mellow radiance of its blessed light, the river, the valley and the whole scene seemed reposing in quiet beauty, forming a strange contrast to the sights and sounds which met the eye and ear on every side. "Let our readers suppose some ten or twenty of the largest camp meetings they ever attended, all thrown into one, with all the accompanying exhortations and singing, these heightened in effect by the music of innumerable bands, and they will be able to form a better idea of the aspect of Fort Meigs the night of the 10th, than we could give by the most labored description. Indeed, the feeling which seemed to pervade each one of the mighty host there assembled was akin to, and apparently was not less fervent or sincere than the most exalted religious sentiments in a period of great excitement. About midnight the camp was aroused by an attack from some hundred Indians. The drums beat to quarters, skirmishers were driven in, the roar of cannon was mingled with vollies of musketry, and during an hour or more, many of the most stirring events of the siege were acted over with an air of startling reality. The Indians were finally driven back, some were captured, the sentinels were placed and the camp sank into profound repose. "By early dawn on the morning of the 11th the whole population of the Valley of the Maumee and the country in a circuit of twenty or thirty miles began to pour in, the hundred bands which accompanied the different delegations were playing, men mustered by hundreds and thousands under their respective banners, and all proceeded to the fort, where at about 10 o'clock the vast assemblage was organized as a convention by the appointment of the following officers : President—Hon. Thomas Ewing, of Ohio. Vice presidents—Governor Woodbridge, of Michigan; Seabury Ford, of Ohio; E. Bancroft, of Wisconsin ; Thomas M. Foote, of New York; N. Gale, of Massachusetts; P. K. Zacharias, of Maryland ; M. Cooke, of Connecticut. Secretaries—W. L. Carpenter, of New York; S. F. Taylor, of Ohio; Charles Noble, of Michigan; TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 903 J. T. Ainsworth, of Vermont ; G. W. Lyman, of Massachusetts. Committee on resolutions—Alfred Kelly, of Ohio; James Brooke, of New York ; George Dawson, of Michigan ; J. Lose, of Maryland ; Major Bostwick, of Indiana ; George D. Prentice, of Kentucky. "Soon after the organization had been thus completed, General Harrison reached the ground and ascended the stand, where were collected many of the veterans of the Revolution and his companions in arms under Wayne, and during the last war. His appearance was greeted with the most tremendous cheers. The Throne of Grace was then addressed in an affecting and appropriate prayer by the Rev. Joseph Badger, whose head was whitened by the frosts of some ninety winters, and who twenty-seven years before was a chaplain in Harrison's army. The prayer concluded, General Harrison advanced to address the vast assemblage. He spoke for nearly an hour and a half straight on, without a moment's hesitancy, and with a force and power not surpassed by one in the full prime and vigor of manhood. We honestly confess that, notwithstanding our perfect confidence in the integrity and purity of his character and principles, and with a just appreciation of his eminent military and civil services, the attacks upon him had been made with such boldness and pertinacity, they had been repeated in so many thousand forms, and from so many sources, that though we gave them no credence, we still had misgivings, lest age, the responsibilities, services and hardships of his eventful life, had somewhat impaired his physical if not intellectual energies. But whatever misgivings we had on that score were dissipated after listening to the first few sentences of his address. During the whole of his long speech, delivered in the open air, under a burning sun, not for one moment did he falter. The trumpet-like tones of his voice rang out as clear at the close as at the commencement, and by all the mighty host gathered round, not less than 25,000, every word could be distinctly heard. We have listened to many of the best public speakers in our country, and from none, either in style, elocution, choiceness or fluency of language, did we ever hear a more effective or appropriate speech. The topics touched upon were such as might naturally be supposed would be the subject of remark on such an occasion. "The multitude had been drawn together to commemorate a glorious event in our national history. The region around had been consecrated by heroic achievements, and cold indeed must 904 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY have been the heart and dim the eye that would not have warmed and kindled, as all those achievements were again vividly, proudly, yet becomingly called up by one who had himself been a conspicuous actor in the scenes of which the Maumee had been the theatre. "Admirably, too, were many of the exciting political questions of the day alluded to, and pure and lasting, we doubt not, were the monitions addressed to the throng, by him who had taken Washington as his model and guide. Time has touched General Harrison with a lenient hand. There is a vigor and elasticity about him which, aided by his habits of strict temperance, promise to last these many years. His eye yet sparkles with the brightness of youth. "From the stand we surveyed the dense and mighty crowd, all hushed into almost death-like silence, or breaking forth in spontaneous and thunder-like cheers. But once in a man's lifetime can he expect to look upon a scene like that. There were the people gathered in their majesty and might. Some had come expressly to be present from a distance of more than 800 miles. They seemed to be composed almost exclusively of farmers and working men, the bone and sinew of the country, who had met, not for purposes of war or to repel a foreign foe, but on a peaceful errand, to consult on the common weal. There was moral sublimity in the impulse which, in a sparsely populated country, could thus draw together at one spot so many thousands. It was an assemblage of the sovereigns themselves, and formed a most striking commentary on the character of our institutions. The influence which it will exert cannot be estimated, but valuable as that will prove, such a meeting is more important inasmuch as it shows the depth and extent of the feeling, of the conviction of the necessity of a change that is now abroad. Nothing can stay it until it has accomplished its perfect work. "General Harrison was followed by the president of the day, Hon. Thomas Ewing. His remarks were addressed more particularly to the men of Ohio, and were worthy the reputation of one of the most distinguished sons the Buckeye state can boast. Mr. Schenck, of Dayton, was then loudly called for. Mr. Schenck enjoys an enviable reputation in his own state, as a lawyer and a public speaker, and if we mistake not, his name ere long will be equally well known throughout the Union. At the close of his remarks the convention adjourned for dinner, but though thousands left the ground, the number seemed scarcely sensibly TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 905 diminished. New speakers were called for, the appetite for hearing growing by what it fed upon, the various gentlemen occupied the stand until the convention formally reassembled. It is impossible to give the names of all the speakers, but among the number who addressed the multitude in the course of the day were Major Clarkson, General Harrison's aid in the war; Messrs. Haddock, Love and Chamberlain, of Buffalo; Taylor and Eleutherus Cook, of Ohio; Dawson, of Michigan, besides other gentlemen whose names have escaped our recollection. To the regret of everyone, Mr. Tom Corwin, the Whig candidate for governor, was taken sick on the road. "On assembling in the afternoon, appropriate resolutions were reported by Mr. Alfred Kelly, of Ohio, and unanimously adopted. A few speeches were made, several new and capital songs were sung, the immense concourse joining in the chorus, and then the convention adjourned sine die. Thus ended the largest and one of the most remarkable conventions ever held in the United States. The number present is variously estimated, and by some, as is usual in such cases, will probably be exaggerated. But from the most exact data we were able to obtain, we were satisfied there must have been 30,000 persons present. Michigan alone sent more than 5,000 delegates. Long as this account is, we have been obliged to omit a thousand anecdotes and interesting incidents to which the occasion gave rise ; and we must also pass over all notice of General Harrison's reception at Cleveland on Saturday, and his speech there, to which we had the pleasure of listening. "The fine soldier-like bearing of the Volunteer Military Corps from Buffalo, under the command of Major Fay, was the theme of universal and deserved admiration. The celebration will be forever remembered by those who participated in it. Not an accident or circumstance occurred to mar the pleasure of the occasion. There was unbounded enthusiasm and high resolve and hope, but not a single drunken or quarrelsome man could be seen. In conclusion, we would say, in the words of Henry the Fifth, with a slight alteration—`be he ne'er so vile, That day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen of Erie then at home, Should think themselves accurs'd they were not there.' " AMONG THE PIONEERS Back in the Catskills of New York State but a few years ago could be pointed out stone fence laid in his native neighborhood 906 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY when he was but a boy, by Isaac Van Tassel II. In his young manhood he came West and entered Hudson College. On account of his health he left school to join his uncle, Isaac Van Tassel I, superintendent of the Indian Mission on the Maumee River. Isaac the Second was a teacher at the Mission and in the '30s of 1800 entered from the Government a timbered tract of land in the deep wilderness a few miles south of now Weston, Wood County. In clearing a spot of ground for a future log cabin, the sound of the axe was only echoed by the howl of the wolves; for alone in his labor no human was within miles of the little opening. In his later years he said he wondered what would have been his fate had the glance of the axe maimed him or had anything befallen him in his loneliness. He staked out or blazed the line of his north and south fence, between his land and the next tract, on a clear night, and used the North Star as his compass. Later he built his cabin, where he domiciled his young wife. Black bear, wolves, wildcats and deer were their nearest companions. To maintain a livelihood he taught school on the Maumee at Otsego, twelve miles away, and at other points, and walked the distance each way many times during the winter seasons. With a great "sawlog" drawn by an ox team, he would start on a winter morning to the nearest mill, also a dozen miles from his cabin, have the log sawed into boards that night and return home the following day with the timber for a better home. As time passed a neighborhood of sturdy people developed around him, and the years brought himself and dutiful wife, who also had been a teacher, a growing family of children. Fruit raising was made rather a specialty, and Van Tassel in years possessed one of the finest apple orchards in all the new West—together with other fruits, and bee culture. These pioneers knew the value of education and, though it brought hardships, saw to it that their sons and daughters received special advantages to develop a cultural life. The home was the gathering place as a social center for the young people of the day for miles around ; even the distant pioneer towns and villages. They possessed the first piano in all that section, a great curiosity, and the young folks from other points would bring their stringed instruments—guitars, violins and such, and the character of the impromptu concerts were worthy affairs. The blind daughter of a later German family had become a pianist of considerable ability. One day her older brother TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 907 brought her to Van Tassel's to play on their fine new instrument, the second one they possessed. In rendering her selection, her brother was not pleased with the key she was playing it in and exclaimed with some spirit : "Kretchen ! Kretchen ! Blay dat biece furder to de souce." His sister was playing in the trebel octaves and he had a partiality for the lower notes—the bass. The piano was standing as to the points of the compass with the lower notes of the instrument to the "souce"—south. There were spelling schools, debating clubs, readings and "exhibitions" galore in those days. And little boys had their blue-eyed, curly-headed school favorites, too. The schoolhouse even in later years was some two miles from the Van Tassel farm. There was a reading contest at the schoolhouse one winter evening, and the only road thereto ran through the deep woods for the distance of a mile. No matter his name, the youngest boy of the Van Tassel family wanted to attend the contest; not so much because he was a good reader and was enthusiastic over that phase of the gathering, but there would probably be present a little girl from town with dark curls and laughing eyes. The boy knew there was a panther, or possibly a lynx, in the neighborhood, because he had one morning heard it scream—a creepy, thrilling cry, and the animal had been seen on occasion. As he must go alone and walk the distance after dark (as dark as a winter night would only be, however, with snow on the ground), the lad debated between his fear of a "possible horrible death by a wild beast" or the chance of meeting his favorite. His timidity was smothered and he walked forth single-handed along the road through the great virgin forest. The night was still and only the sharp sound of the explosions of the freezing tree sap broke the quietness. And then when he was in the loneliest part of the woods there came to his alert ears the snapping of fallen twigs and the stealthy sound of steadily treading feet in the snow. Glancing to one side could be seen not far away among the trees the shadowy form of a large animal traveling parallel to his course and creepily keeping pace in the same direction. The boy wore a warm, heavy cap. But the hair of his head actually raised his headgear clear of its moorings. His hair stood straight up. The cap actually floated on air. He took a more rapid pace. So did the hungry beast. He slowed down. The animal seemingly did the same. But as interminable minutes, many of them, passed, the boy thought of the possible blood 908 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY curdling contest, and that by nerving himself for the fray, should he come off victor, he would have a thrilling tale to tell. He would be a hero. Just at this the animal took a spurt in his direction, crossed a few feet in front of him and vanished in the woods on the opposite side. It was a large, long-haired dog! It had probably scented its prey and was now in hot pursuit. The boy's cap settled back on his head. His heart adjusted itself in its proper position. The very thought of his courageous resolution had a prideful appeal. He arrived at the schoolhouse in safety. She was there, and of course it must be recorded that as he "saw her safely home" she listened with admiration to the story of his heroic bravery. Mrs. Isaac Van Tassel, II, in her girlhood was Louisa Martindale. She was born at the head of Fort Meigs, on the Maumee, in 1821, and later lived at Orleans. Her people lived there when Porter, the Indian, was hung at the foot of the fort for shooting Isaac Richardson, as elsewhere related. Louisa, as a child, could not help surveying the crowd of spectators who witnessed the execution, but before the trap was sprung she "turned her head away in horror." Elisha Martindale, Louisa's father, built the first house within the present limits of the progressive college town (or city) of Bowling Green, Ohio. It is known that there is a special "shower of meteors" at intervals of a third of a century; or rather that the earth passes through the so-called meteoric belt once in every thirty-three years. The greatest "shower" known to history occurred in November, 1833, the display being the heaviest on the night of the 13th. On that night Mr. Martindale was absent from home and the mother and children were awakened by a disturbance among the poultry. It devolved upon the child Louisa and her little brother to go forth into the chill out-of-doors to drive away the "skunk, mink, owl or other disturbers of the hen roost." Issuing forth, the sky was cloudless and the heavens were observed to be a mass of shooting sparks of fire darting in every direction. When Louisa returned to the cabin she said to her mother excitedly : "The stars are all falling down." It was a wonderful scene which she never forgot. Martindale raised a crop of corn on the river that fall and stored some of it in the loft of his log cabin. When he built his home he had cleared only a sufficient space in the woods for the house. Tall trees stood close about surrounding it. Flying TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 909 squirrels spied out the corn and evidently communicated the news to their neighbors for miles around. They attacked the stored crop with a vengeance and the family were obliged to come to the rescue of their source for corn bread with sticks and clubs. By actual count the children killed over 400 of these little robbers, now practically extinct. POLITICAL MEETING On Tuesday, November 1, 1859, a largely attended meeting of the Republicans of German township, Fulton County, Ohio, was held at the Village of Archbold, at which a banner was presented to the Republicans of that township in honor of their first victory over the Democracy, achieved at the previous election. The banner was of white satin, upon which in gold and colors was the following inscription : "From the Republican Mothers and Daughters of Fulton County to the Republicans of German Township." "We greet you as brothers." "In commemoration of the glorious victory of 1859." On the reverse—top and sides—"Fraternity," "Liberty," "Equality." The filling in—"Where Liberty dwells, there is my Country." "Free Homes for Free People." "Lands to the Landless." "Protection to Foreign-born Citizens abroad." After the presentation was made a resolution was passed complimenting Hon. J. M. Ashley, the new Congressman, eliciting from him in reply the following remarks, which were published in the Wauseon Republican: "Mr. President and Ladies and Gentlemen : It is not my purpose to detain you long, for I come not so much to make a speech this afternoon as to be a listener, and to enjoy a social hour with friends who are convened to celebrate an event that should make glad the heart of every free man. For your compliments, and the manner in which you have been pleased to express your appreciation of my humble efforts for the cause, I return you my sincere thanks. And permit me to express the hope that no act or vote of mine in the new and untried field of labor to which you have commissioned me, and to which in a few days I must repair, will ever cause any of my fellow-citizens to regret that their suffrages were bestowed upon me. "The victory we have assembled to celebrate, my fellow-citizens, is not a victory for any one man, or a number of men, but a victory for principle, a victory for humanity, for right, for 910 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY truth, for justice. It is indeed a glorious victory, the effects of which will soon be visible at the slave-holding capital of the republic, where Ohio will again be represented in the Senate of the United States by a senator true to freedom. This is a consummation over which we may properly express our gratitude, and exchange congratulations, and to no township, of the same number of inhabitants, in the state, are we more deeply indebted for our triumph in Ohio this fall, than to German township, in Fulton County. And I express to you, but imperfectly, the joy the Republicans of Lucas feel, especially the German Republicans of Toledo, at the redemption of German township from the control of a spurious and false democracy. You fought the battle well and gallantly, and the beautiful banner just presented to you by the fair daughters of Fulton County tells you better than I can tell you of the high esteem and regard in which you are held by those who, with you, are battling earnestly for the rights of man and the liberty and enfranchisement of the human race. I have faith that you will take no step backward, that you will stand firmly by the principles of freedom, and annually carry to the ballot-box the time-honored Democratic-Republican principle emblazoned upon the folds of your banner. "To you, my German fellow-citizens, the Republican party is under deep obligations for its past success. To you it looks with confidence for aid in the great battle of 1860. With gratitude we acknowledge its indebtedness to you, not only here in German township, but all over the country. "Everywhere the freedom-loving Germans are joining our ranks, and if, as a party, we are faithful to the Constitution and the Union, and true to the doctrines of human brotherhood, they will remain with us. Had it not been for the charge of KnowNothingism which has been so persistently and falsely made against us, by the very party which from the first has had nearly all the pro-slavery Know-Nothing leaders secretly in its ranks, almost every German elector in the United States would have been with us today. As it is, they will be with us in 1860, and, like brothers standing shoulder to shoulder on the Republican platform, will rally around the banner of liberty, and our cause shall triumph. * * *" At the Toledo "Wigwam" on the night of October 14, 1860, on the occasion of the Republican jollification over the recent victories of that party in Ohio, Indiana and Pennsylvania, Mr. Ashley opened his address as follows: TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 911 "Fellow-Citizens : With pleasure I respond to your call, and announce that the Republican cause has again triumphed in this county, in this congressional district, and in the state. (Cheers). It is fitting and proper that so glorious a victory should be commemorated by blazing bonfires, torchlight processions and illuminations. On every political battle-field where free speech and a free press are tolerated, and our opponents have been met, they are vanquished and we are triumphant. (Applause). "From the pine-clad hills of Maine to the home of the gallant Blair, on the banks of the Mississippi, in the free-soil City of St. Louis; frcm the green hills of Vermont to the Territory of Nebraska; from the good old Keystone state (God bless her for her 30,000 majority) (cheers for Pennsylvania), from our neighbor, Indiana, just redeemed from the rule of a false democracy who fastened upon the country bogus United States senators, and from all over our own broad and beloved commonwealth, the shouting of millions of freemen greet us tonight with the welcome tidings of glorious victories won. * * *" At Chicago, September 22nd, 1893, during the World's Fair, the "Parliament of Religions" met to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation of Abraham Lincoln, which liberated over three and a half million slaves in 1863. It was one of the most notable gatherings the world has ever known. The scene was most inspiring when the delegates took their places in long triple lines upon the platform, facing the vast audience, in the hall of Columbus. "In the middle a flash of flaming scarlet reflected from the robes of Cardinal Gibbons, at his right the lavender and black lace gown, which set off the beauty of the president of the Board of Lady Managers; at his left the high black peaked cap, the trailing robes and the golden chains of the Bishop of the Greek Church ; further on, the green and garnet velvet tunics of East Indian Punjabs ; here the single violet orange garment of a Hindoo monk ; there the pinks of a Japanese Bishop and his suite; on one side black and royal purple where sit a group of Archbishops of the Catholic Church ; on the other, the gorgeous red and gold of a member of a Hindoo Sisterhood—a confusion of colors, as strange as the confusion of tongues, of races and of religions. Through all the addresses of welcome and many responses ran one clear note. It spoke of the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. From the great leaders of all religions came the same message. 912 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY "It was an imposing procession that filed upon the platform. There were Caucasians, Mongolians and Ethiopians, men from all the nations of the earth, representing all the religions of the earth. They seated themselves closely together upon the huge platform, the strangers from the farther points of the world, with their picturesque garbs, in front." Withal the occasion was made historic by the Afro-American League of Tennessee, which presented to the Hon. James M. Ashley a souvenir as a token of the regard of the Afro-Americans for his work in the interests of universal freedom and especially in the passage of the Thirteenth. Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, 1865. This tribute was in the form of a special and elaborately bound volume, containing Mr. Ashley's speeches in Congress and his work on behalf of the abolishment of slavery, edited by Bishop Benjamin W. Arnet of the A. M. E. Church. "That flag means more to you and to me tonight than ever it did before. * * * "It means that never again, on the land or on the sea, can it be a flag of 'stripes' to any of God's children, however poor or however black." "No more its flaming emblems wave To bar from hope the trembling slave; No more its radiant glories shine To blast with woe one child of Thine." LOST IN THE WOODS In pioneer times, when the dense forests closely hugged the settlers' cabins, it was not uncommon for children to be lost, and even adults occasionally lost their bearings and became bewildered. On such occasions in their confusion they even failed to recognize the most familiar objects. A Mr. Johnson, of Williams County, while in the woods on a gloomy day lost the points of the compass. He wandered about until he came to a log stable with an old horse standing near. The animal seemed in very poor condition and in his mind Johnson wondered at the neglect of its keeper, as well as the care of the premises. Moving a little nearer, a cabin came in sight, with a woman standing near the door. "What you got there, John?" exclaimed the lady of the premises, evidently referring to some sort of game Johnson had killed. It then dawned upon him that his own wife had spoken to him and that the horse and dilapidated stable were his own. TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 913 In the same County of Williams, in Center Township in an early day a boy about four years old had attempted to follow his mother to a neighbor's through the woods. The loss was not discovered until the mother returned, about dark. Search was immediately instituted, the neighborhood was aroused, and soon the woods were filled with anxious searchers. Torches were carried, and the search continued all night; but the morning dawned, and the first day passed without success. The mother was almost distracted with grief and nervous anxiety. People came by the score to assist in the hunt, some as far distant as five or six miles; but, although more than a hundred active searchers were present, no concerted and organized effort was made, strange to say, until the third day. On this clay a long line was formed, the men and women being stationed sixty feet apart, and the word was given by the captain to march. It was not long before the little boy was found. He was dead, but his body yet contained warmth, showing that death had occurred only a short time before. The spot where the little fellow had slept each night was found. When night overtook him, he had, evidently, as was his habit, taken off his clothes, thinking that he must do so in order to go to sleep. It was October and the nights were quite cold, and the little wanderer could not survive the chilling weather. When he arose the first morning he was unable to put on his clothes properly, and thus had wandered about half clad. STORY OF MARY FRANKFATHER This story of a lost child comes from Bloom township in Wood County. On October 25, 1835, Frederick Frankfather, a pioneer of the dense forests of southern Wood County and the older members of the family walked to the home of a Jonathan Hay to attend religious services, leaving the children at home gathering and cracking hickory nuts. One of the children, Mary, four and a half years old wandered to a shell-bark hickory some distance from the house. Towards evening her brother James, then fifteen years old, called to the little one, but only an older sister answered. The father was notified and search was continued throughout the night and the next day. On the third clay, the 27th, thirty men from Van. Buren, Hancock County, the nearest settlement, joined the searchers. The hem of the child's torn dress was found several miles away, and northwest of Bloom Center. On the eighth day between 500 and 600 searchers were 914 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY organized and were combing the forests in regular order. That night they camped six miles north of the center of Bloom township or about three miles southeast of the Village of Portage; but the father returned home to his family and to plan for the next day. At nine o'clock, the same evening, a Samuel Heller brought the family the news that a child's tracks had been discovered near an old encampment of General Hull's army on Hull's Trace between Findlay and Bowling Green and not far from present Cygnet, Wood County. The discovery was made by a man traveling on the trail towards Findlay. The army of searchers turned in that direction on the ninth day of their hunt, found the tracks but with no results. On the eleventh day a new company of searchers met the father at the old Ross Tavern on Hull's Trace south of Portage, where the word came that the child had been found by three men in the woods near now Milton Center, Wood County, and about fifteen miles from home. The men were cleaning land and at first thought she was a little Indian girl, gave her some of their luncheon and told her to go to her camp. However, she followed them until she came to a trail leading to the pioneer cabin of a Milton township settler named John Dubbs. Following the trail she arrived at a clearing where employes of Mr. Dubbs were felling trees. Evidently thinking the men were her own people she approached cautiously but on seeing her mistake, she started away. Two little girls with the choppers caught sight of the wanderer and induced her to go with them. The men had only that morning heard of the lost child and she was fed sparingly. At five o'clock the same evening, her father and two friends, Mahlon and Edward Whitacre, arrived at the Dubbs' cabin and that night they remained at Mahlon Whitacre's on their way home, where they arrived in the forenoon of the twelfth day of the child's absence. "Tip" the family dog was the companion of little Mary up to about the tenth day, as the child told of the dog being with her late in her wanderings and running away from a burning tree as it fell. Later probably Tip was killed by wolves, as he never was seen again. Evidently the October of 1835 was dry and not cold and the child must have subsisted on such nuts as she knew about. While this story is authentic, no details of her condition or how she survived the hardships of her wanderings are left of record; save that she grew to womanhood, was married and became the mother of several children. TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 915 DEER AND BEAR STORY Thousands of acres of primeval forests existed in the Lower Lakes region until a comparatively late day. These dense wooded sections contained an abundance of game; deer were numerous and in some localities in earlier years bear were common. Many tales of deer hunting and bear killing have been handed down. One fall, two pioneers of Williams County, George W. Bible of Superior township and Frederick Miser of Center township, entered into a contest to see which one could kill the greater number of deer within two months time. Bible killed ninety-nine and Miser sixty-five, and the winner was disappointed because he did not reach the hundred mark. The skins and fore quarters were sold fresh, while the hams were salted and packed. From this same section comes this bear story. Bruin's appetite was very partial to young pig, and it was no unusual experience for a pioneer to be aroused in the night by a terrible commotion in the neighborhood of his pigpen. Bruin might be frightened off for the time being, but was almost sure to return the next night. On his second visit, however, the settler would have his bear trap set, and rarely failed to secure a supply of bear meat. The bear trap was what is called a "dead-fall," baited and set off by a trigger. John Gillet belonged to the Mill Creek section in Mill Creek township and told his own story as follows : "I had known for some time by the signs that there was a nest of cub bears somewhere in the neighborhood, so one day I concluded that I would put in my time finding them, as a party in Adrian wanted a pair to send over to Baltimore to a friend who was fond of outlandish pets. You see, it was along about the first of September, and pretty warm at that, and after walking up and down the creek, I began to get pretty tired; so I sat down by the side of a smooth stump, about twelve or fourteen feet high, to rest. I hadn't been there more than a minute until I heard something inside the stump, and soon made out that it was a couple of cub bears playing with one another. I looked on all sides of the stump to find an opening, but none was to be seen. Then I happened to notice the marks of claws up the side of the stump, and I understood it. The hole went in at the top. I set my gun against a bush, up-ended the branch of a tree, and was soon at the top of the stump, looking in at the two cubs, which were about the size of full-grown rat dogs. I was so excited that 916 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY I jumped down into the stump and grabbed the cubs. They at first began to squeal, and then turned on me for fight. But they were small enough to handle, and in a minute or two I had their mouths tied so they could not bite, and their feet fastened so they could not scratch. "I knew that the old bear would be along pretty soon and make it hot for me if she found me in the nest; so I swung the youngsters into my buckskin belt, preparatory to getting out. "Get out? Did I get out? Land of love ! It makes me shiver to think of it yet. I could no more get out of that stump than I could fly. The hollow was bell-shaped, larger at the bottom than at the top—so large, in fact, that I could not put my back against one side and my feet and hands against the other, and crawl up, as rabbits and other animals climb up, inside of hollow trees. In no way could I get up a foot. There were no sticks inside to help me up, and. I made up my mind I had to die certain. About the time I came to this conclusion I heard the old bear climbing up the outside of the stump. With only my hunting-knife, as a means of defence, and in such close quarters, you may possibly imagine the state of my feelings. The old bear was not more than half a minute, at the outside, climbing up the stump; but it seemed like a month, at least. I thought of all my sins a dozen times over. At last she reached the top, but she didn't seem to suspect my presence at all, as she turned around and began slowly descending, tail foremost. I felt as though my last hour had come, and I began to think seriously about lying down and letting the bear kill me, so as to get out of my misery as quickly as possible. "Suddenly an idea struck me, and despair gave way to hope. I drew out my hunting-knife and stood on tip-toe. When the bear was about seven feet from the bottom of the hollow, I fastened on her tail with my left hand with a vise-like grip, and with my right hand drove my hunting-knife to the hilt in her haunch, at the same time yelling like a whole tribe of Indians. What did she do? Well, you should have seen the performance. She did not stop to reflect a moment, but shot out of the top of the stump like a bullet out of a gun. I held on until we struck the ground. Then the old bear went like lightning into the brush and was out of sight in half a minute. I took the cubs to Adrian the next day and got five dollars apiece for them, and in those times five dollars were as good as fifty dollars are now." TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 917 HENRY HOWE, THE HISTORIAN Historically speaking one of Ohio's greatest benefactors was the late Henry Howe. It was in 1846 and 1847, that he traveled over the entire new state of Ohio, gleaning first handed information for his "Historical Collections of Ohio." He visited in person nearly every county. Then over forty years later, in 1888, he traveled over the same ground and issued the second edition of his Ohio Collection in two volumes. For the "Introduction" to his second edition he wrote in 1888 as follows: "When, in 1847, I had written the preface on the preceding pages I could little imagine that forty years later I should make a second tour over Ohio and put forth a second edition. Not a human being in any land that I know of has done a like thing. It is in view of what I have been enabled to do for a great people I regard myself as having been one of the most fortunate of men. A spot is now reached which even in my dreams could not have been visioned, and I here rejoice that in the year 1839, now just half a century, I turned my back on Wall Street, with its golden allurements, where I had passed more than a year, to follow an occupation that was congenial with my loves and would widely benefit my fellow-men. 'He that hasteth to be rich shall not be innocent,' but he that labors to spread knowledge in the form of good books that will reach the humblest cabin in the wilderness will feed his own soul, and earth and sky be a delight in his eyes all his days through. "When, in 1846, my snow-white companion, Old Pomp, carried me his willing burden on his back entirely over Ohio, it was a new land opening to the sun. Its habitations were largely of logs, many of them standing in the margins of deep forests, amid the girdled monsters that reared their sombre skeleton forms over a soil for the first time brought under the benign influence of human cultivation. "So young was the land that in that year the very lawmakers, eighty-four out of 107, were born strangers. The list of the nativities of the members of the Legislature, which I have saved from that day, is as follows : Pennsylvania, 24; Ohio, 23; Virginia, 18; New York, 10; all the New England States, 18, of whom 6 were from Connecticut; Maryland, 7; Europe, 6; Kentucky, 1, and North Carolina, 1. Only four years before had the state grown its first native governor in the person of Wilson Shannon, born in a log-cabin, down in Belmont County, in 1802, 31-VOL. 1 918 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY and to be soon thereafter a fatherless infant, for George Shannon, whose son he was, in the following winter, while out hunting, got lost in the woods in a snow-storm, and, going around in a circle, at last grew sleepy, fell and froze to death. The present governor, J. B. Foraker, that very year of my tour, (1846) was born in a cabin in Highland County, July 5th When Mr. Howe contemplated his second edition, publishers or capitalists gave him no encouragement, as he was considered "too old for such an undertaking," being seventy years of age. Finally, his old fellow townsmen of New Haven, Conn., aided him by "subscription loans," and in the meantime, ex-President Hayes at Spiegel Grove, Fremont, Judge Taft and Governor Hoadley of Cincinnati, with a few other Ohioans, gave him further aid and encouragement. Regarding his second tour of the state he wrote that "sometimes the expressions of those upon whom I called were too strong for my humility. One old gentleman said : 'What! you are not the Henry Howe who wrote our Ohio History?' Yes.' With that he sprang for me, grasped me around the waist, hugged me, lifted me off my feet and danced around the floor. Short of stature, but strong as a bear, there was no resisting his hug. Speaking of it afterward, he said he never did such a thing before —embracing a man ! But when I told him who I was, a crowd of memories of forty years came upon him and he was enthused beyond control. In other cases old gentlemen brought in their children to introduce to me. In many places visited I did not offer my subscription list. Time would not allow; only when funds were short did I pause for the means to move. Beside, it is not honorable to draw upon the resources of generous spirits beyond absolute necessity." While all those whom Mr. Howe met on his first tour, with few exceptions then children, have been gathered to their fathers, there are many yet living including those of the Maumee and Sandusky regions, who remember his kindly face and low, gentle voice as he greeted them on his second visit. He was an artist of ability, and especially for his first edition, made his own sketches and drawings. He possessed an ideal for primitive beauty, one of his most delightful sketches being a "Scene on the Auglaize" drawn as he noted, "on a pleasant day in June, 1846." This "Home in the Wilderness" or tavern, was probably the first built within Putnam County. It was located about five miles northwest from now Kalida. Of the drawing TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 919 Mr. Howe wrote : "The view 'A Home in The Wilderness,' represents a log tavern in the western part of the county, on the road to Charloe. It was built about thirty years since (in 1816) by two men, assisted by a woman. It has long been a favorite stopping place for travelers, as many as twenty or thirty, with their horses, having frequently tarried here over night when journeying through the wilderness. The situation is charming. It is on the banks of the Auglaize, which flows in a ravine some fifteen or twenty feet below. All around stand massive trees, with foliage luxuriantly developed by the virgin fertility of the soil, while numerous branches lave in the passing waters. We [Mr. Howe and Pomp] came suddenly upon the place on a pleasant day in June, 1846, and were so much pleased with its primitive simplicity and loveliness as to stop and make a more familiar acquaintance. We alighted from our faithful 'Pomp,' turned him loose among the fresh grass, drew our portfolio from our saddlebags, and while he was rolling amid the clover in full liberty, and the ladies of the house were seated sewing in the open space between the parts of the cabin, fanned by a gentle breeze, we took a sketch as a memorial of a scene we shall never forget, and to present to our readers." The name of the tavern keeper on the sign in the view is "P. B. Halden." In 1889, Mr. Howe received a letter from S. S. Halden of Darke County, which among other things concerning Mr. Howe's visit said : "I am a son of P. B. Halden whose name appears on the sign as you drew it. I was then fourteen years old, and recollect it about as vividly as if it had occurred but yesterday—your riding into the yard on horseback ; getting off your horse ; laying your paper, pencils, etc., about you on the old sled or mud boat, which lay in the yard at that time, and is shown in the picture, and watching you draw the scene. Such an occurrence was too rare not to make an impression on a boy like me. A man named Sebastian Sroufe built the house. He died and was buried near there. Two of his sons were named George and Albert—the latter was a school teacher. His widow married Judge Perkins, and they moved to Williams County. "While you were making the sketch, my mother and a lady school teacher sat in the open space between the two rooms, sewing. Before you had completed it, my brother and a Mr. Whiting came through the yard where we were sitting, having been to a deer lick. One of them carried his gun at 'trail arms' and the 920 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY other carried his gun on his shoulder, and with them was our dog `Tyler.' " It was well the dog was along. His name marks the era of the event and helps to confirm the truth of Mr. Holden's statement. The hard-cider campaign had only passed a few years before, when the old Whigs had sung "For Tippecanoe and Tyler too." Hence it was natural for them to thus name their dogs "Tip" for Tippecanoe and "Tyler" for Tyler too. Humor comes from incongruous associations, so Mark Twain named his jumping frog Daniel Webster—both were heavy-weights ; one from brains and brawn, the other from shot. H. S. KNAPP And by the way, H. S. Knapp who wrote in 1873 his "History of the Maumee Valley," was once editor of the Kaleda (Putnam County) Venture and a venture it was. Knapp one Sunday went, with his newly wedded wife on horseback, to Columbus Grove to attend camp meeting. On their return trip they were dumped into a mudhole. Knapp tried to extricate his bride from her perilous situation, but failed. He then backed his horse until the bride caught hold of the horse's tail with a firm grip and was pulled out, of course in a most dilapidated condition. The editorials in the next issue of the Venture concerning the new country "were short and crabbed." Knapp's opponents, called his paper the Kaleda Vulture. The paper was established in 1841, by James McKenzie, and became the Putnam County Sentinel of Ottawa, owned for years and edited by the late George D. Kinder, one of Northwestern Ohio's able newspaper men of the old school and an historian of much merit. PERILS OF GENERAL HARRISON At least four times the life of General Harrison, War of 1812, was in peril. Once at the battle of Tippecanoe, the hair of his head was cut by a ball from the enemy's gun ; at Vincennes as Governor of Indiana Territory, where he met Tecumseh and his warriors for a "conference," and when the Shawnee leader had evidently plotted his life as has been told; at Fort Meigs, when a ball passed through his clothing—and the fourth time as follows : It was just before Perry gained his great victory over the British on Lake Erie and General Harrison was at Fort Seneca TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 921 planning his campaign against the British Proctor in Canada. The affair is taken from the General's Memoirs. The friendly Indians of the Delaware, Shawanese and Seneca tribes had been invited to join him. A number had accepted the invitation, and had reached Seneca before the arrival of the Kentucky troops. All the chiefs, and no doubt the greater part of the warriors were favorable to the American cause; but before their departure from their towns, a wretch had insinuated himself among them, with the intention of assassinating the commanding general. He belonged to the Shawanese tribe, and bore the name of Blue Jacket; but was not the celebrated Blue Jacket who signed the treaty of Greenville with General Wayne. He had formerly resided at the town of Wapakoneta; he had, however, been absent for a considerable time and had returned but a few days before the warriors of that town set out to join the American army. It is impossible to say what was the motive of Blue Jacket. He was not one of the Tippecanoe Shawnees and there is little doubt that he arrived at Wapakoneta from Malden. Who there conceived the plot with him, if anyone, has never been revealed. He informed the chiefs that he had been hunting on the Wabash, and at his request, he was suffered to join the party which were about to march to Seneca. Upon their arrival at McArthur's block-house, they halted and encamped for the purpose of receiving provisions from the deputy Indian Agent, Colonel M'Pherson, who resided there. Before their arrival at that place, Blue Jacket had communicated to a friend (a Shawanese warrior), his intention to kill the American general, and requested his assistance ; this his friend declined and endeavored to dissuade him from attempting it, assuring him that it could not be done without the certain sacrifice of his own life, as he had been at the American camp and knew that there was always a guard round the General's quarters, who were on duty day and night. Blue Jacket replied, that he was determined to execute his intention at any risk, that he would kill the General if he was sure that his guards would cut him in pieces not bigger than his thumb nail. No people on earth are more faithful in keeping secrets than the Indians, but each warrior has a friend from whom he will conceal nothing; luckily for General Harrison, the friend of the confidant of Blue Jacket was a young Delaware chief named Beaver, who was also bound to the General by the ties of friendship. He was the son of a Delaware war chief of the same name, 922 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY who had with others been put to death by his own tribe, on the charge of practicing sorcery. General Harrison had been upon terms of friendship with the father, and had patronized his orphan boy, at that time ten or twelve years of age. He had now arrived at manhood and was considered among the most promising warriors of his tribe; to this young chief the friend of Blue Jacket revealed the fatal secret. The Beaver was placed by this communication in an embarrassing situation, for should he disclose what he had heard, he betrayed his friend, than which nothing could be more repugnant to the feelings and principles of an Indian warrior. Should he not disclose it, consequences equally or even more to be deprecated were likely to ensue—the assassination of a friend, the friend of his father, whose life he was bound to defend, or whose death to revenge by the same principle of fidelity and honor which forbade the disclosure. While he was yet hesitating, Blue Jacket came up to the Delaware camp somewhat intoxicated, vociferating vengeance upon Col. M'Pherson, who had just turned him out of his house, and whom he declared he would put to death for the insult he had received. The sight of the traitor aroused the indignation and resentment of the Beaver to the highest pitch. He seized his tomahawk, and advancing toward the culprit, said : "You must be a great warrior. You will not only kill this white man for serving you as you deserve, but you will also murder our father, the American chief, and bring disgrace and mischief upon us all; but you shall do neither, I will serve you as I would a mad dog." A furious blow from the tomahawk of the Beaver stretched the unfortunate Blue Jacket at his feet, and a second terminated his existence ; "There," said he to some Shawanese who were present, "take him to the camp of his tribe, and tell them who has done the deed." The Shawanese were far from resenting it; they applauded the conduct of the Beaver, and rejoiced at their happy escape from the ignominy which the accomplishment of Blue Jacket's design would have brought upon them. At the second great treaty which was held at Greenville in 1815, General Cass, one of the commissioners, related the whole of the transaction to the assembled chiefs, and after thanking the Beaver, in the name of the United States, for having saved the life of their general, he caused a handsome present to be made him out of the goods which he had sent for the purpose of the treaty. * * * Upon the arrival of the chiefs at Seneca, the principal war chief of the TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 923 Shawanese requested permission to sleep at the door of the General's marquee, and this he did every night until the embarkation of the troops. This man, who had fought with great bravery on' our side in the several sorties from Fort Meigs, was called Captain Tommy; he was a great favorite of the officers, particularly the General and Commodore Perry, the latter of whom was accustomed to call him the General's "Mameluke." General Harrison, while his life may not have been endangered, was, as told elsewhere, in great peril one night while attempting to reach the Maumee from Lower Sandusky, to head off General Winchester from his River Raisin advance. Harrison, with his horse, became badly mired in the Black Swamp and pulled out with the help of one of General Perkins' privates, with great difficulty. CAPTIVITY OF BRICKNELL AND SPENCER Indian captives were many times treated by their captors with great consideration and kindness. At the great council of the tribes held at the site of Defiance in 1792, among the captives brought there were John Bricknell of Pittsburg and Oliver M. Spencer of Cincinnati, mentioned elsewhere. Both men left accounts of their captivity. Bricknell was taken by the Indians in February, 1791, at the age of nine, and was adopted by a Delaware brave named Whingy Pooshis, and lived with the family four years. In his narrative he speaks of his kindly treatment and consideration. Their cruel treatment of their enemies in war seems but the acting out of the precepts, "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and blood for blood." Young Bricknell was trained to hunt and much of his time was out on hunting expeditions. These were generally to the streams of the Maumee in summer, but in winter extended to the Scioto, the Hocking and Licking rivers. During his four years' sojourn here, two very important events occurred—St. Clair's defeat, in 1791, and Wayne's victory, August 20, 1794. The winter after Wayne's victory was spent by the Indians at the mouth of Swan Creek—Toledo. Of this Bricknell says : "We were entirely dependent upon the British, and they did not half supply us. The starving and sickly condition of the Indians made them very impatient and they became exasperated at the British. It was finally concluded to send a flag to Fort Defiance in order to make a treaty with the Americans. This was successful. Our men found the Americans ready to treat, and they 924 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY agreed upon an exchange of prisoners. I saw nine white prisoners exchanged for nine Indians. I was left, there being no Indian to give for me. Patton, Johnston, Sloan and Mrs. Baker were four of the nine; the names of the others I do not recollect. "On the breaking-up of spring we all went to Fort Defiance, and arriving on the shore opposite, we saluted the fort with a round of rifles, and they shot a cannon thirteen times. We then encamped on the spot. On the same day Whingy Pooshis told me I must go over to the fort. The children hung around me crying, and asked me if I was going to leave them. I told them I did not know. When we got over to the fort and were seated with the officers, Whingy Pooshis told me to stand up, which I did. He then arose and addressed me in about these words: `My son, these are men the same color with yourself, and some of your kin may be here, or they may be a great way off. You have lived a long time with us. I call on you to say if I have not been a father to you; if I have not used you as a father would a son?' I said, You have used me as well as a father could use a son.' He said, 'I am glad you say so. You have lived long with me; you have hunted for me ; but your treaty says you must be free. If you choose to go with people of your own color I have no right to say a word; but if you choose to stay with me your people have no right to speak. Now reflect on it and take your choice and tell us as soon as you make up your mind.' I was silent for a few minutes, in which time I seemed to think of most everything. I thought of the children I had just left crying; I thought of the Indians I was attached to, and I thought of my people whom I remembered ; and this latter thought predominated, and I said, `I will go with my kin.' The old man then said, 'I have raised you. I have learned you to hunt; you are a good hunter. You have been better to me than my own sons. I am now getting old and I cannot hunt. I thought you would be a support to my old age. I leaned on you as on a staff. Now it is broken—you are going to leave me and I have no right to say a word, but I am ruined.' He then sank back in tears to his seat. I heartily joined him in his tears, parted with him, and have never seen or heard of him since." On his return from his captivity Bricknell settled in Columbus, and became one of its most esteemed citizens. Spencer was eleven years old when taken by two Indians in 1792, while wandering near his home. One, a Shawnee, transferred his rights to his companion White Loon, the son of a Mohawk chief. Upon their arrival at the confluence of the TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 925 Auglaize and the Maumee, after disposing of their furs to a British Indian trader, they crossed over to a small bark cabin near its banks, and directly opposite the point, and, leaving him in charge of its occupant—an old widow, the mother-in-law of White Loon—departed for their homes, a Shawnee village, on the river about one mile below. Cooh-coo-che, the widow in whose charge young Spencer had been left, was a princess of the Iroquois tribe. She was a priestess, to whom the Indians applied before going on any important war expedition. She was esteemed a great medicine-woman. Spencer described the settlement as follows: "On this high ground (later the site of Fort Defiance, erected by General Wayne in 1794), extending from the Maumee a quarter of a mile up the Auglaize, about two hundred yards in width, was an open space, on the west and south of which were oak woods, with hazel undergrowth. Within this opening, a few hundred yards above the point, on the steep high bank of the Auglaize, were five or six cabins and log houses inhabited principally by Indian traders. The most northerly, a large hewed log house, divided below into three apartments, was occupied as a warehouse, store and dwelling by George Ironside, the most wealthy and influential of the traders on the point. Next to his were the houses of Pirault (Pero), a French baker, and M'Kenzie, a Scot, who, in addition to merchandising, followed the occupation of a silversmith, exchanging with the Indians his brooches, ear-drops, and other silver ornaments, at an enormous profit, for skins and furs. Still farther up were several other families of French and English; and two American prisoners, Henry Ball, a soldier taken at St. Clair's defeat, and his wife, Polly Meadows, captured at the same time, were allowed to live here, and by labor to pay their masters the price of their ransom ; he by boating to the rapids of the Maumee, and she by washing and sewing. Fronting the house of Ironside, and about fifty yards from the bank, was a small stockade enclosing two hewed log houses, one of which was occupied by James Girty (brother of Simon), the other, occasionally, by M'Kee and Elliott, British Indian Agents, living at Detroit. From this station I had a fine view of the large village more than a mile south, on the east side of the Auglaize, of Blue Jacket's town, and of the Maumee River for several miles below, and of the extensive prairie covered with corn, directly opposite, and forming together a very handsome landscape." 926 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY As Howe says, Young Spencer was redeemed from captivity on the last day of February, 1793, and through the solicitation of Washington to the governor of Canada, the latter instructed Colonel Elliott, the Indian agent, to interpose for his release. He was taken down the Maumee in an open pirogue, thence paddled in a canoe by two squaws along the shore of Lake Erie to Detroit. His route thence was by Lake Erie in a vessel to Erie, Pa., thence to Forts Chippewa and Niagara, across New York State, then mostly a wilderness, to Albany, down the Hudson to New York city, thence through Pennsylvania to Cincinnati. The distance was 2,000 miles, and such the difficulties to be overcome that two years were consumed in the journey; but for the protecting aus- pices of those highest in authority it could not have been accomplished at all. Young Spencer became a Methodist minister, and reared a family of the highest respectability; one son became postmaster of Cincinnati about 1850, another a judge of its superior -court. A STORY OF THE MAUMEE Here is another story concerning the life and adventures of old settlers in the Maumee and Sandusky region. In the spring of 1810, Jacob Woodruff left Griersburgh (now Darlington), Pennsylvania, for Ohio, accompanied by his wife and six children, of whom Nancy (sixteen years of age), was the eldest. He stopped first in what is now Summit County; the next year went to Cleveland, and to the mouth of Black River (then in Huron, now in Lorain County), where he put up a cabin. Cleveland then was in its beginning, with one store, that of Nathan Perry, and a small tavern. At Black River, John S. Reed had a small trading post, beside whom was Jonathan Seeley—the three families constituting the entire white population of that locality, with plenty of Indians, whose behavior depended upon the quantity of whiskey obtained at the trading post. In the summer of 1811, Mr. Woodruff went to the mouth of Vermillion River, where was the single family of a Mr. Sturgeon, who kept a ferry. In the fall of 1811, Nancy Woodruff accompanied a family named Young, who were removing from Cleveland to Cold Creek (now Castalia, Erie County), the passage being made in the sloop Sallie, Capt. Abijah Baker, stopping where Venice (on Sandusky Bay) was located some years thereafter, Sandusky then being called the "Ogontz Place," the town plat not being made for some six years thereafter. At Cold Creek, then, TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 927 were Maj. Frederick Falley, and Mr. Snow (who was subsequently killed by the Indians, and whose daughter Eletta was taken captive at the same time). In December, 1811, Miss Woodruff was married to Capt. Abijah Baker, the captain of the Sallie. The same winter the young couple moved to Huron River, as also did the Woodruff family, when they put up log houses on the river below the Abbott place (afterwards the county seat of Huron County). In June, 1812 (war with England, meantime, having been declared), Captain Baker set sail from the Huron River for the foot of the Maumee Rapids (old Fort Miami) , where he expected a load of General Hull's army baggage for Detroit, his wife accompanying him. As they entered the Maumee, its banks seemed alive with noisy Indians. Darkness overtook them when near the mouth of Swan Creek, where they anchored for the night. With them was John Laylin (of Norwalk, Ohio). They landed and examined Fort Industry on the bluff near the mouth of Swan Creek. A small schooner met them on its way from the Foot of the Rapids with the army baggage which Captain Baker was expecting for his vessel. His disappointment was relieved, however, when he subsequently learned that the loaded schooner was captured by the British. On the vessel was Doctor Reynolds, a surgeon of General Hull's army, who afterwards was killed at Detroit. Captain Baker continued his way up the Maumee to the Foot of the Rapids, where he obtained a cargo of flour (probably belonging to an army contractor), for Erie (Pennsylvania), whence the voyage was made, when they returned to the Huron River, in time to participate in the historical flight of the settlers of that section to the south, upon hearing of Hull's surrender and the probable approach of the British and Indians. The Woodruffs stopped at Mount Vernon, but Captain Baker and wife, on two horses, returned to Pennsylvania. He enlisted in the army and died at Williamsport, that state, in 1813. Mrs. Baker soon returned to Ohio with an infant son, whose name was Abijah Woodruff Baker, and who in after years came to be extensively known as a printer and publisher, having started many newspapers in Ohio and elsewhere. He lost his life in the War with Mexico. In 1818 Mrs. Baker was married to T. K. Rudulph, in Knox County, and soon was again a widow, with another son, J. R. Rudulph, and a daughter, afterwards Mrs. George Williams. In 1831 she again married, Thomas Morrell being her third husband, who died in 1848, when Mrs. Morrell came to Wood County, to make her home with her son, 928 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY J. R. Rudulph, and daughter, Mrs. Williams. She died at Bowling Green, December 7, 1878. FURTHER HISTORICAL NOTES James Thomas was an early adventurer from York State who arrived at Maumee April 19, 1817, after traveling mostly on foot for fifteen days. At that time there were no improved roads between Buffalo and the Maumee River, nor a road of any sort for much of that distance. Cleveland was then a very small village; there was a tavern at Elyria; a small settlement at Florence Corners, Huron (now Erie) County; a few houses at the county seat, below Milan (Norwalk) ; a few settlers at Lower Sandusky; one house between that place and the Maumee River, consisting of a log shanty on "Carryin' " (Portage) River, which furnished shelter for a Frenchman on his trips as mail carrier on foot, guided by blazed trees. Mr. Thomas remained at Maumee for three years. FROM WAGGONER'S HISTORY The Ohio and Michigan Register and Emigrant's Guide, was the title of a monthly periodical, started by the late Jesup W. Scott, at Florence, Huron (now Erie) County, in 1831. As indicated by its title, it was designed chiefly as a medium for communicating information in regard to the condition and advantages of Northern Ohio and Michigan for settlement by eastern people. In his introductory article, the editor said : "We enter upon the performance of our task with much pleasure, because the subject which will occupy the most prominent portion of this journal, is one to which we have directed much of our attention, and because we believe that, properly conducted, our sheet will be of great service to this whole section of country, and to the thousands of individuals at the East, to whom a correct knowledge of the western country will be communicated." A correspondent of that paper ("D. B.") writing from Perrysburg, in 1832, said that town had an indifferent courthouse, two taverns, one store, and forty or fifty dwellings and shops. Land could be had in the neighborhood at from $1.25 to $10.00 per acre. The outlet of the Miami and Erie Canal was then supposed to lie between Perrysburg and Maumee City, the towns below TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 929 those points then being understood as "probably belonging to Michigan." Of the locality of the present City of Toledo, the correspondent said : "The new town, 'Vistula,' just being born, and mentioned in your last, makes a great noise, and attracts much attention from the numerous immigrants who are seeking the most eligible site for a town on the Maumee. A considerable number of lots, according to the information obtained from Maj. B. F. Stickney, one of the proprietors, had been sold in the course of the spring and summer, and improvements of a permanent character and on a large scale engaged to be made. This nascent village is handsomely situated on the left bank of the Maumee River, about three miles from its mouth, and immediately below the site of Port Lawrence. These places will probably some day grow together and become one, provided my opinion shall turn out to be correct, that the great town of the Maumee shall be situated there." THE STORY OF MATTHEW BRAYTON "Ugh, me no pale face," contemptuously exclaimed a lithe warrior in the most dignified accents of the Copperhead tongue, as he faced a sharp-eyed white man at a Hudson Bay trading post, at the same time heaving the ashes from a square, flint pipe it had taken him months to carve. He toyed with his tomahawk while his thoughts drifted westward to his pretty squaw, Tefronia, the tame deer, and his laughing daughter, Tululee. "Well, you're no Indian," exclaimed the trader in French as be turned on his heel and strode away. The warrior stood looking after him a moment, then grunted at Nawah, the wolf dog that had raised its head to lick his hand. His past had been a turmoil. What of his birth? Having disposed of his skins he traveled into the land of the Copperheads and tc the big chief, Owashkahkenaw, and asked, "O mighty chief, father of Tefronia, who am I?" The chief replied, "My son, you are Owashkahne and you stay with Tefronia." The sub-chiefs were called. The warrior was seized and bound to a log and into his breast were burned the tatoo marks of the Copperheads. "Go hunt and fight and ask me no more," commanded Chief Owashkahkenaw. 930 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY Memory could not take the brave warrior back to the time, nearly a third of a century before, when that portion of Wyandot County situated southeast of the Black Swamp was but sparsely settled and when the smoke from the log but arose within sight of the Indian wigwam and the races were apparently at peace. In the neighborhood of the junction of the Sandusky River and Tymochtee Creek a portion of the once powerful tribe of Wyandots still resided in 1825. From their camp an Indian trail led through the Black Swamp to Perrysburg, Wood County, thence across the Maumee and along Lake Erie to Detroit. Many of the Ohio Indians had sided with the British in the War of 1812. They followed this trail and crossed into Canada annually to get presents of guns, amunition and blankets. The Canadian Indians, in turn, frequently visited their Ohio brethren and thus the trail was often traversed. Along the Tymochtee was the cabin of Elijah Brayton. He and his good wife were conquering the wilderness and rearing a family of six children. On September 20, 1825, William Brayton, an elder son, and his little brother, Matthew, then about seven and a half years of age, set out to find some lost cattle while their father was on a trip to Chillicothe to get millstones. Matthew, tiring was left to go to the cabin of a neighbor. Toward evening William returned from the search for the cattle to learn that his little brother had never reached the neighbor's cabin. A long and fruitless search was conducted for the missing boy by the handful of whites in the neighborhood. His footsteps led to the Indian trail, where they disappeared. Years dragged slowly by and the mother died of a broken heart. The lad had been stolen by Canadian Indians to avenge a wrong they held the whites had done. For a long time they kept him in hiding in Canada and then he was sold to a party of Pottawottomies, who took him over into Michigan. The price of the sale was three and a half gallons of whiskey. Six months later he was traded to the Paw Paws for five and a half gallons of fire water. All the time he was being trained as an Indian. His next transfer was to the Winnebagoes, in Illinois, his value having increased with his age to seven and a half gallons of snakyeye. Soon he went to the Wisconsin Chippewas for nine and a half gallons of whiskey. In time Matthew became a husky young warrior of the Sioux. TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 931 His wigwam was near seven shanties of French and Dutch, the present site of St. Paul. The chief of the Sioux appeared before the lad. "Come, we go to fight the Snakes." The trail led westward and on the eve of the battle the Indians held the dog dance, peculiar only to the Sioux. But it did not give them victory and the Snakes seized Matthew and proceeded west of the Rocky Mountains. They entered California to fight the Diggers. Matthew found that this tribe subsisted only on roots dug by the women, the original American flappers, who always appeared with bobbed hair and painted faces. Finally the Diggers and whites combined to drive out the Snakes who retreated into Utah and camped in a vast wilderness where not a white man lived, near the present site of Salt Lake City. Growing restless, they migrated into Oregon and came in contact with the Blackfeet, the most cruel redskins in existence, who made long trips to war on other tribes. For protection the Snakes allied themselves with the Flatheads and the union was finally extended to the Utahs and Crees. Matthew distinguished himself for bravery among the tribes and was often wounded by tomahawk and arrow. The Snakes finally moved into the land of the Copperheads, who roamed the vast territory extending to the land of the Eskimo. The tribe united in peace with the Copperheads, ruled over by Chief Owashkahkenaw. Matthew believing himself to be an Indian took the mighty chief's youngest daughter as his wife. The Copperheads married for life. He was then a sturdy warrior, dressed as befitted a Copperhead, with leggings to the knees and a tunic of furs, the naked body between the leggings and tunic and above the furs, daubed with oil and paint. Very strict rules governed the allied tribes. Matthew became an expert hunter traversing as far north as a three weeks' journey from the Arctic Ocean. He fed his elk on bark and moss. Breaking these elk, used as beasts of burden by the Copperheads was much more strenuous than "broncho busting" in later years. A captured elk was tethered by thongs to its antlers to two trees. Other thongs bound its hind feet to the trees. Matthew, the lithe, would mount its back with a lump of salt in his hand, wrap his arms about the horns and his feet about the stomach of the animal. Four Indians cut all thongs at the same time and the elk dashed away, pursuing a headling course for miles, the branching horns preventing it from dashing among 932 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY the trees in such a manner as to hurt the rider. When the elk tired of its useless rampage, Matthew stole his hand down to its nose and held the salt there until the animal licked it. After that the elk was docile. Matthew hunted buffalo, bears and wolves and traded with the Russians. And this was the "Indian" into whose mind the trader put doubt. After a time his tribe moved south again, conquered the Biackfeet and burned all captives at the stake. The old chief seeing his tribe victorious and realizing that he soon would be called to the happy hunting grounds, summoned Matthew before a council of chiefs and revealed the story of his life. Matthew was given permission to go and search for his people if he returned within a year. On April 16, 1859 Matthew reached St. Paul, accompanied by some of the tribe. From there he set out for Chicago accompanied only by his faithful dog, Nawah. He became ill before he reached that city and sank to the earth. When he awakened he was in a hospital, his long hair cut close, the paint scrubbed from his body; he was wearing white men's clothes. Soon afterward his search began in earnest. He walked through Michigan to Canada, then to Detroit, Toledo, Fremont, Cleveland and into Pennsylvania. Finally he reached New York. His story got into the Ohio papers and one of them was received at the Brayton home. William Brayton, who had never forgiven himself for the loss of his brother, followed the trail into New York and came upon Matthew in the cabin of a Mr. Smith. When a scar for which he had been told to look on Matthew's head, was found, William's emotion may well be imagined. Hundreds of neighbors collected for the reunion when, Matthew was brought back to his father. With trembling hands the father, aged seventy-three, searched for the scar on the head of the stranger. Then he tottered, and with a gush of tears, with the stream of affection that had been pent up for a third of a century, he embraced Matthew as his lost son. Back in the land of the Copperheads laughing Tululee was never to see her father again. There arose a dispute as to whether he was really the lost Matthew Brayton, and it was claimed as proven that he was William Todd stolen in Michigan. TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 933 Be that as it may, the terrible Civil war was at hand, Matthew or William answered the call of his country, marched away with his dog Nawah, and served valiantly until mortally wounded at Chickamauga. [Contributed by Charles U. Read.] A PIONEER WEDDING It was a little crossroads store in southern Wyandot County, near the place where prairie ended and forest began. Inside, a flickering candle cast weird shadows on dingy rough-hewn walls. A man, white-haired and bent, leaning heavily on a cane, inspected homespuns on a low shelf. The aspect was that of sheer gloom. How different outside, and just across the trail that was called a road. Fairer, softer moonbeams never kissed two lovers than those that bathed with mellow light Jacques Bingham and Margaret Ingram, seated upon a log near a white-chinked cabin. It was a picture of happiness, that evening of August 1, 1849. "How I have longed for the day," sighed Jacques, lightly caressing the fair hand he held. "Tomorrow you will be my wife, dear Margaret." "Yes, Jacques," she replied, rubbing his hand against her soft cheek. "I, too, have longed for the morrow." The heavy oaken door of the store swung open, and the moonlight and the candle light revealed Dancer, the man of light heart and odd jobs, and the best fiddler for miles around. He bowed and doffed his hat, revealing but one little bunch of hair atop his head, a veritable rosette of frizzes. "Good evening, Major," he greeted the aged man. "Is everything set for the wedding tomorrow?" The Major had been scowling, but now he smiled. It was at thoughts of his niece, Margaret, whom the Major and his good wife had tenderly reared and who was a blossom of beauty and purity. "Come in, Dancer, and have a swig. I want you to fiddle for the dance tomorrow night. It's to be at Jacques' new cabin. He's a good boy." The Major was proud of Jacques, and well he might be, for Jacques came of the best stock and was a willing toiler. His father, now snow-haired as the Major, but straight as a sapling, was always respectfully referred to as the Hon. Francis Bingham. He had a pretentious home for that early day, and it was nearer the village of Marion. 934 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY At length the candle flame sputtered and died. Dancer departed with a merry "Good night," to the lovers. Margaret coyly let Jacques kiss her hand, then dutifully followed the Major into the cabin. The wedding day dawned fair. Jacques was up with the dawning. Carefully he greased a pair of new leather boots and whistled as he attired himself for the big event, which was to take place at the Major's cabin at noon. Margaret, too, was up with the sun, singing like a lark. "I'm going to be wedded today," she beamed, poking Matthew in the ribs with a playful finger. Matthew was the sorrow of the Major's household. He wasn't exactly a half-wit, but there was something lacking in his mental makeup. It didn't keep him, though, from loving Margaret. "All right, I'll be there to kiss the bride," he grinned. And then came the Major's wife, to discuss with Margaret the intricacies of the calico wedding gown. It was early when the parson, coming out from Marion, tethered his horse near the Major's store. He had stopped enroute to inspect Jacques' cozy cabin, the nest where the young athlete was to take his bride. He was profuse in his praises. Then the Hon. Francis jogged up with his son the bridegroom. While Jacques went at once to the cabin, Francis stopped at the store. The Major in his enthusiasm had been making too frequent trips to a jug, and liquor always soiled his temper. He had just recalled that Francis was in his debt. It made him angry. Did Francis think that because he was giving up his niece he would cancel the bill at the same time? Not much. Francis would pay or there would be no ceremony. At that instant Francis walked in and extended his hand with a smile. "Not so fast, not so fast, my friend," quoth the Major. "Do you realize that you owe me an account here, sir?" "Oh, let's forget about it now. This is a day for events more important than that," laughed Francis, attempting to be congenial. "Forget, nothing," screamed the Major, stamping the floor with his cane, as his face flushed with sudden anger. "I pay my debts. You pay yours. If you don't pay I'll whale you until your own son won't know you." A gnarled cane was brandished in the air. TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 935 Francis' cheeks flushed and he shoved his fist in the Major's face. "All right, let's have the account. If your niece wasn't world's better than you I'd never let my son marry her." The Major could neither read nor write and had a crude way of keeping accounts. He reached into an old boot and pulled out a clapboard shingle. On it were some odd charcoal markings. A long mark with several prongs was identified as a grain cradle. More signs were deciphered as a pair of boots, two drinks and a bottle of paregoric. The temper of both men had begun to cool when the Major reached a large, symetrically drawn circle and told Francis it was a cheese. "Cheese, cheese, I never had a cheese in my house. I wouldn't eat cheese if I lived in a cheese factory. Trying to swindle me, are you? Well, you can't do it this time." The two men continued' to glare and cast contemptuous epithets at one another for several minutes, until Matthew, a strapping man of thirty years, appeared in the doorway and called, "Come on, Pa, they're all ready to be married." "Married? Do you suppose I'd let Margaret marry the son of this crook? Not by a jugful." The Major stormed out of the store, followed by fuming Francis. Such a tirade as broke loose upon the happy scene in the little cabin. The minister held shut his ears and expostulated to no avail. Margaret burst into tears and sought comfort in her mother's arms. Jacques clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, with great difficulty keeping from laying hands on the Major. At length they were able to determine from the sputterings of the enraged men what it was all about. Matthew strode up to his father, and shaking him roughly hissed, "Look here, Pa, if you don't let Margaret get married I'll go out and kill myself." "Well, get out, it would be a good riddance," cried the Major, not knowing what he said. Matthew disappeared in the direction of the stable. Next, the Major strode up to Jacques, and pointing his finger at the door, screeched, "You get out, too, and take your old scalawag of a father along." "Let's go over and look at the account," suggested Jacques, who by a great effort had calmed himself. "All right, come along," yelled the Major, "Maybe you'll be honest enough to settle it, if your father isn't." Margaret, drying her tears, went along, too. She studied the designs on the shingle, for she was familiar with the Major's 936 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY bookkeeping. It appeared a hopeless task. The parson came timidly in, looked over the board and shook his head. "But you'll marry me in spite of your uncle, won't you, Margaret?" Jacques implored. Margaret did not know what it was to disobey. "Oh, Jacques, I love you but—" and she began sobbing again. With an effort she stifled her emotion. She had an inspiration. "Uncle, maybe there is a mistake. Calm yourself and think. Isn't there anything else that circle might be instead of a cheese?" "I know my business—" began the Major, then stopped with a quick intake of breath and grabbed up the shingle. His hands trembled. Beads of perspiration gathered on his brow. He gasped in a broken, sobered tone, "My God, Honorable Francis, what a fool. I've made of myself. That's a grindstone and I forgot to put a dot in the center for the hole." "So it is," exclaimed the enlightened Francis. "Why didn't I think of it?" He drew some currency from his pocket. "Now, Major, what is my whole bill?" "Not a gol-blasted penny. Why, I've offered you nothing but insults today. That darn liquor got the better of me, I guess. Come on Margaret and Jacques, let's have the knot tied." Someone thought of Matthew and there was a rush for the stable. But he was only sulking inside. "I just couldn't kill myself, Margaret," he whispered, while tears stole down his bronzed cheeks. And so Margaret and Jacques became man and wife, and Dancer played his fiddle as never before in a cozy new cabin that night.—[Contributed by Charles U. Read.] CHAPTER LVII THE STORY OF RALPH KEELER FROM VAGABONDIA TO LITERARY PROMINENCE-HIS BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD-A RUNAWAY ORPHAN-CABIN BOY ON LAKE ERIE-A "NEGRO MINSTREL" ON THE MISSISSIPPI-IN SCHOOL AT CAPE GIRARDEAU AND KENYON-CLERK IN TOLEDO POST OFFICE-TOURS EUROPE ON FOOT AND ATTENDS OLD HEIDELBERG-MEETS MARK TWAIN IN CALIFORNIA-ON THE LECTURE PLATFORM-GAINS LITERARY RECOGNITION-ON EDITORIAL STAFF OF HARPER'S MAGAZINE-BANQUETS BOSTON LITERARY GROUP- REPRESENTS NEW YORK TRIBUNE IN CUBA DURING SPANISH REVOLUTION- HIS MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE - PROBABLY MURDERED AT SEA - AMERICAN-SPANISH CORRESPONDENCE OVER THE TRAGEDY-TRIBUTES TO KEELER'S MEMORY. In a picturesque situation and on the highest elevation of a beautiful cemetery which edges the village of Weston, Wood County, Ohio, and overlooking toward the rising sun what was once a broad expanse of prairie, there stands a modest white marble shaft bearing this inscription : Our Brother Ralph Keeler Born August 28, 1840 ; Supposed to have been lost at sea December 14, 1873. Thereby is told in briefest form the story of a remarkable character. As the place of his birth was upon the very spot where was raised this tribute to his memory, and by reason of the fact that in following Ralph Keeler's wonderful career it comes back to Toledo and Northwestern Ohio time and again ; because he became nationally known, and again because his tragic end brought about much international discussion and led to serious complications between the United States and Spain, a detailed story of Keeler's life is pertinent to this publication. When Coleman I. Keeler, an ambitious Easterner, came to the Maumee Valley where he could broaden his life's conditions, he located his family where is now Toledo. Only three white settlers had preceded him within the present city limits. He held the title of Colonel and had previously won honors in the War of 1812, in the valley he selected for his abiding place. One of his sons, Ralph Olmstead, inheriting the element of thrift from his father, and imbibing the spirit of western expansion, after exploring the territory south of the Great Lakes, about 1832 selected 400 acres back from the Maumee River settlements as his choice for develop- - 937 - 938 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY ment. A part of the land was prairie with deep, rich soil, and another portion was higher, forest ridgelands, an advantage in wet seasons and in times of freshets. A cooling spring burst from the foot of the ridge, its waters soon joining a sluggish stream that wound its way through the reeds and high prairie grass and was finally lost in the wood beyond. Keeler became a stock raiser and grazed his cattle herds upon this prairie which thereafter bore his name. The home he built on the high rise of ground overlooking the prairie, was for those days a pretentious one. With a most companionable wife, prosperity followed and there entered into their lives five children, two sons and three daughters. Then suddenly there came a great change. The father and a little daughter died, and the mother soon followed in her grief while at Maumee. The family ties thus broken, the elder son and daughters sought consolation in other scenes, leaving the little boy Ralph, of this narrative, the youngest of the family, alone at home in the hands of a guardian. An orphan bereft of the love of a devoted mother and a dutiful father and the companionship of his kin, no affection which he so longed for remained, and he became disconsolate and unbearably lonesome. One morning as he stood at the threshold of his once happy abode, looking sadly over the prairie, he suddenly resolved upon action. He made his way northward almost blindly through the forest bordered, winding path which stretched toward the Maumee River and the old villages of Perrysburg and Maumee and then Toledoward. There are no records to tell just the way he went or that reveal his experiences immediately after reaching Toledo. However, he had many prominent relatives in that then young city, and the time had not arrived when he shunned them as became necessary to his purpose 'later. Coming down the years, in a volume published by William Dean Howells, we read of a banquet or luncheon given in Boston to the literary celebrities of that period, Samuel M. Clemens (Mark Twain), Thomas Bailey Aldrich, J. T. Fields and Bret Harte, and including W. D. Howells himself, by another member of this noted literary group. The host was none other than Ralph Keeler, the boy who had fled from his home on his father's Wood County purchase, and upon which today stands a large portion of the mentioned Village of Weston. Again one day after Weston had a railroad, a mysterious stranger, immaculately garbed and carrying a cane, and with the air of a French count, dropped off a two-a-day passenger train. He circulated among the citizens of the then embryo village, wandered northward from the station and over the prairie, visited the spring at the foot of the hill, wandered along the edge of the sandy ridge and the bordering wood, and surveyed with solemnity the site of the old homestead the boy of this narrative had deserted. When he left as mysteriously as he came, the circumstance for days was the talk of the villagers. This stranger was none other than Ralph Keeler, and the story of his visit is told in a book he wrote, entitled "Vagabond Adventures." During the Spanish Revolution and the Cuban Insurrection which followed in consequence, in 1873, a representative of the New York Tribune TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 939 went to Cuba, shipping from an American port, to investigate the conditions there for that paper. While on his duties as correspondent he boarded a Spanish vessel going from Havana to Manzanillo, never landed at the place of his destination or elsewhere, was never seen or heard of again, and the particulars of his fate to this day remain a mystery. This journalist was also Ralph Keeler, who gave the Boston luncheon and who mysteriously visited the place of his birth he had deserted as a fatherless, motherless boy. During the comparatively short number of years between his flight and his disappearance, in tracing his career, Keeler is found in school at Buffalo at the age of eleven years, where he was placed by relatives ; ran away again to ship as a cabin boy on Lake Erie ; made Toledo his home while a newsboy on the railroad ; spent three years as a "negro minstrel" on the Mississippi River and larger tributaries ; was in school at St. Vincent's College, Cape Girardeau, Mo., under Father Ryan ; then three years or over in school at Kenyon College, Gambier (1857-1861) ; a clerk in the Toledo post office; a tour abroad and a tramp on foot over Europe after matriculating at German Heidelberg; wrote for world famed magazines; returned to America and engaged in newspaper work in California and the while on the lecture platform ; then east again where he mixed with the American literary celebrities in the atmosphere of Boston, and finally to Cuba and the bottom of the sea. The details of Keeler's life from the time he left the home of his birth until his disappearance, in many respects is not outrivaled in human interest in true story or in fiction. In his "My Mark Twain," W. D. Howells said there was a gap in his recollection about Clemens of about two years ; that the break in the gap came when he met him at a luncheon in Boston, "given us by that genius of hospitality, the tragically destined Ralph Keeler." Continuing, Howells said "There was at the luncheon T. B. Aldrich, there was J. T. Fields, much the oldest of our company, who had just freed himself from the trammel of the publishing business and was feeling his freedom in every word ; there was Bret Harte, who had lately come East in his princely progress from California ; and there was Clemens. Nothing remains to me of the happy time but a sense of idle and aimless and joyful talk-play, beginning and ending nowhere, of eager laughter, of countless good stories from Fields, of a heat-lightning shimmer of wit from Aldrich, of an occasional concentration of our joint mockeries upon our host, who took it gladly ; and amid the discourse, so little improving, but so full of good fellowship, Bret Harte's fleering dramatization of Clemens' mental attitude toward a symposium of Boston Illuminates. 'Why, fellows,' he spluttered, 'this is the dream of Mark's life,' and I remember the glance from under Clemens' feathery eyebrows, which betrayed his enjoyment of the fun. We had beefsteak with mushrooms, which in recognition of their shape, Aldrich hailed as shoepegs, and to crown the feast we had an omelette souffle, which the waiter brought in as flat as a pancake, amid our shouts of congratulations to Keeler, who took them with appreciative 940 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY submission. It was in every way what a Boston literary lunch ought not to have been in the popular ideal which Harte attributed to Clemens." In another place in speaking of Keeler, Howells wrote : "His letters from Cuba to the (New York) Tribune hastily and interruptedly written, fairly rose from the level of journalism to that of literature." Keeler is also mentioned in Ferris Greenlet's "Life of Thomas Bailey Aldrich ;" by Albert Bigelow Paine in his biography of Mark Train, and by several other literary celebrities. Reading of Keeler's intimate association with Howells and Clemens and J. T. Fields and Thomas Bailey Aldrich and Bret Harte, it is found that Keeler, in his day, wrote for the Atlantic Monthly and Harper's Magazine and foreign publications, was art editor for a time of Every Saturday, which was early under the guidance of Fields and Osgood, and was the author of two books, "Gloverson and His Silent Partners" and "Vagabond Adventures." "Vagabond Adventures," which Keeler wrote in 1870, is really a true story of his own life from his birth to the age of about twenty-two. Here are quotations from the opening chapter : "I ran away from home at the mature age of about eight, and have not been back, to stay over night, from that remote period to this present writing. * * * It was not a very attractive hearth that I ran from. My father and mother were dead and no brothers or sisters of mine were there—nothing at all like affection. * * * It was but a week ago that I rode over this broad Ohio prairie where I was born [on his Weston visit—Editor] and passed by the pleasant farms, which with the prairie, were the patrimony left me—or should I say to the kind gentleman who administered them for me. That property has never been any care to me. It was so thoroughly administered during my minority, that I have never since had the trouble of even collecting rents. * * * Now there may be people of a recklessly imaginative type, who suppose it would excite a thrill to ride thus over a great prairie which bears one's own name, but no more tangible emolument for the quondam heir, * * * and pass through a town which was once sold by one's own administrator for fifty-two dollars. But I am free to confess that I have enjoyed these honors within the past week, and have carried nothing away with me, in the matter of gratification or sentiment, but a dash of sadness which has settled about the wreck and ruin of the old homestead. Nothing seems to thrive there but the cold spring at the foot of the sand-ridge, and the poplar and weeping willow which grew above it. These had and have for me a plaintive undertone to the rhythm of their rustling leaves, which I do not hope to make others hear. The willow was the whip with which a friend rode twenty miles from the county-seat (Perrysburg) to visit my father, in the early times, and it was stuck in the ground there, on the margin of the spring, by my little sister ; the poplar was planted beside it by my mother. They are both tall trees now and a sprig from one of them has been growing a long time over the graves of father and mother and sister." Quoting further from his book, Keeler wrote : "At an early stage of TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 941 my orphanage I was introduced to a species of in transitu life, being passed from one guardian to another very much as wood is loaded upon Mississippi steamboats. It was indeed a rather rough passage of short stages—each, however, more remote from my Ohio birthplace, and I have always thought there would not have been so many figurative slivers left behind in the hands through which I passed, if the journey had not been so rough and headlong. Finally, at the age of about nine years, I was shipped away to Buffalo, N. Y., to be placed at school. I was sent thither down Lake Erie from Toledo, on board the old steamer Indiana, Captain Appleby commanding. * * * I think I shall forget everything else before I forget the noble sheet-iron Indian which stood astride of the steamer's solitary smokestack, and bent his bow and pointed his arrow at the lake breezes. A brass band, too, as was the generous custom of those days, was attached to the steamer and discoursed thin, gratuitous music during the voyage. * * * It was the first piece of statuary I ever saw, as that execrable brass band made the first concert I ever heard. And the Apollo Belvedere at Rome, or Strauss' own orchestra, led by himself at Vienna, has never since excited in me such honest thrills of admiration. * * * The lake was remarkably calm, and the entire passage to Buffalo, was for years one of my pleasant memories. On that first voyage, undoubtedly was engendered the early love of steamboats, the fruit of which ripened afterwards into the adventures I am about to relate." After Ralph Keeler was placed in school at Buffalo by his relatives, and was about eleven years old, he found his surroundings as unbearable as at his old Weston birthplace. Escaping from the house in Buffalo in the spring night, the little fellow had not the presence of mind to take anything with him but what he carried on his back. By prearrangement with one of his schoolmates, he was smuggled into the stable of the chum's father. Here for three days he lodged and slept in the darkness of the haymow, and was fed with such sustenance as his friend could surreptitiously supply him. Then one evening, at the invitation of his benefactor, they attended the old Buffalo Eagle Street Theater. It was evidently a minstrel performance, and the event as will appear later, had a great bearing on his future career. The next day, after having pressed upon him five copper cents with which to make his way in the world, the vagabond and his chum bade each other farewell. After persistently applying along the docks for "work" he was finally permitted to board a steamer called the Diamond and shipped for Cleveland, then Conneaut, where the steward lived, and whose matronly wife met the boat at the dock and took the lad home with her in a one-horse chaise. But let Keeler be quoted again : "Near the end of a quiet street we alighted at a little frame house all embowered in peach and plum trees. This was the steward's home, and soon was as much mine as if I had held the title deed. * * * When tired of the house and little yard, I amused myself in strolling alone to the lake and taking amateur voyages in the fishermen's boats, without their permission, and in fishing and hunting clams along Conneaut 942 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY Creek. My favorite bathing place was beneath the high bridge of the Lake Shore Railroad." Although almost "killed with kindness" by the steward's good wife who was childless, and after spending on land two of his happiest weeks since the death of his parents, the restless boy longed for "sea life" and shipped again on the Diamond, making Buffalo and other ports and finally Toledo, where he knew he had relatives and by reason of which fact he scarcely went ashore for fear of being apprehended. He shunned Toledo streets for some time until his various guardians evidently lost interest in looking after a youth without property, and the freedom was a great relief to the spirited boy. Reverting a moment to the steward's wife, Keeler says, "It seems I had taken the place in her childless bosom of that strongest and purest of all affections—the mother's for her offspring. * * * Later in life some great sorrow unhinged her intellect and the insanity took the form of always expecting back the same homeless urchin, unchanged by the years. * * * Until she died, she used to go regularly every afternoon to a friend and ask her about her 'lost boy' as she called me." After spending some time on the steamer Diamond, the good steward who had befriended him, finally concluded that it was his duty to get into communication with Keeler's relatives. The upshot was that the little vagabond at the first opportunity severed his relations with that craft and soon found himself on the old steamer Baltic, where he shipped as a cabin boy at $10 per month. The near end of the first month found the Baltic and crew at Toledo. The boy looked eagerly forward for his first ten dollars earned by his own hands one morning as the steamer was about to leave her moorings for Detroit. Keeler tells it like this : "It had been my habit, once a week, to wash my shirt in the pantry and to wait about the kitchen till it dried, with my coat buttoned up to my chin. Now on this same morning I had just issued from the kitchen with my clean shirt in my hand, when the captain told me to do something, I forget what. I assured him I would as soon as I could put my shirt on. He told me to do it right away, at the same time coupling me and my garment blasphemously together, and consigning us, figuratively, to a port where for aught I know, there may be many collectors, but no custom-houses. I gave the captain to understand still more bluntly that I would do nothing till I had made my toilet ; and inspired by the memory of former wrongs, as well as a consciousness of prospective opulence, I used to my superior officer other language of a saucy and independent kind. Whereupon, the captain, in sailor phrase, 'tacked' for me and I `tacked' for the shore. Here then, I demanded my pay, but the enraged commander solemnly averred that he would see me first in that tropical port just alluded to, and then I should never have a cent. * * * Shortly after, the boat pushed off into the stream. "A sympathizing friend threw me a paper of crackers from the pantry on the upper deck; and as the Baltic got under way, there I stood on the Toledo wharf with my paper of crackers in one hand, my shirt in the other, clamoring for my wages. * * * I stood leaning against the splintered pile, which had been one of her hitching posts, and watched TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 943 the Baltic as she faded slowly out of sight. My courage seemed to fade with her. * * * What were the five coppers in my pocket, to the dollars I had lost, or to the combined capital of my relatives in that very city ? The contest was plainly hopeless. For as much as half an hour I considered myself delivered into the hands of my pursuers. Indeed, the dock upon which I was making my mental soliloquy, happened to be but a short distance from the warehouse of an uncle of mine, then a commission merchant and ship-owner in Toledo. "At last, I took myself despondently to a neighboring shed and donned my shirt, and then, as under some desperate spell, walked straight to my uncle's office. I crossed the threshold and saw him in conversation with some gentlemen. While waiting till he noticed me, I beheld through the office window the little steamer Arrow, almost ready to start for Detroit. I knew the Baltic was also going to Detroit, and thought that I might possibly get my money if I followed her thither. * * * Instantly, my comprehensive vow to have nothing more to do with my Toledo relatives. * * * Seeing that my uncle had not yet observed me, I turned quickly on my heel and made hastily for the dock of the Arrow. I concealed myself on board of her till she was under way, when making my case known to the steward, I was allowed to work my passage in the cabin to Detroit." "As the Arrow was then the fastest boat on the lakes, she passed the Baltic off Monroe lighthouse and when the Baltic arrived at Detroit, to the astonishment of the captain, there was the vagabond at the dock before him, clamoring again for his money—his shirt was now on his back, he had five copper cents in his pocket and his crackers in his hand. But under the captain's threat of his exposure to the authorities, he fled without his wages. Being loaned a yawl from a sand scow, with which he wished to set foot on a "foreign shore" (Canada) and reaching midstream in the Detroit River, the little adventurer narrowly escaped death by being run down by a steamer named Niagara. But the swell caused by the steamer struck the small craft and threw it clear of the wheel, after the bow of the large vessel had just grazed the yawl. Seeking again for work from the captains of various craft along the Detroit river front, more trouble was at hand. He happened to importune the commander of the steamer Pacific, whom it developed had been in the employ of his Toledo uncle and had been discharged. The irate captain threatened to take revenge on the waif by reporting him to the House of Vagrancy. Summary flight was as always his refuge. Then boldly to the old Commercial Hotel and a night's lodging there in the top story among a dozen or more snoring waiters, porters and rustlers. Keeler compared it to a "midsummer night's frog pond," and in a most humorous way described the baritone, the deep bass, the tenor snorers, the "tapering treble" and the "steady crescendo of the chorus." He washed the dishes the following morning on a lumber schooner for his breakfast, his first meal in twenty-four hours, really his first full meal in forty-eight hours. Getting now and then something to stay his stomach by doing odd jobs on boats along the wharf, a trip on the Michigan Central steamer, 944 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY Mayflower, found him again in Buffalo. A ray of sunshine : A voice as if from the clouds called the lad's own name ; locating it, there was his old Buffalo school chum who had quartered Keeler in his father's stable. This time the little vagabond was taken to his friend's home, received kindly by the mother of the household, fed sumptuously and lodged. She also provided the vagrant with a full and clean outfit of clothing from head to toe. It was Saturday, and there being no school, the two boys made a merry day of it ; however, keeping away from Keeler's former stopping place, when he, too, was in school. He also displayed to his little friend the five copper pennies this chum had given him when he had fled from Buffalo. Philosophizing that the best thing to be done for the restless boy was to find him employment, the father of the household where he was entertained over the week-end, on Monday morning, by his influence and by the kindness of the then Captain Pheatt of the craft, secured for Keeler the position of "key-boy" on the palatial steamer Northern Indiana. For the light duties of caring for the state room keys and attending to the steward's office, the pay was $10 per month. The exclusive privilege of selling books and papers to the passengers was also included. After seven months' service on this "floating palace," every day of which was a joy, when the steamer laid up at Toledo for the winter, young Keeler had accumulated enough money to keep himself handsomely and pay his school expenses. But as he says, "fate in the guise of disappointed affection and a banjo, ordered otherwise." However, from this time on, he was left to his own ways by his relatives and his numerous guardians. When the fine passenger steamer Northern Indiana, Captain Pheatt, laid up at Toledo for the winter young Keeler turned his attention to other affairs. With his accumulated capital he now embarked upon another adventure, which he relates in a story, "Three Years as a Negro Minstrel," he later wrote for the Atlantic Monthly. He had, as stated, attended the old Buffalo Eagle Street Theatre, had seen minstrel shows, and had become fascinated by the old style clog dancers. He now resolved to become an adept himself. He inserted the copper coins given to him by his Buffalo school chum, in the heels of his footgear, and used to practice his art on the deck above Captain Pheatt's stateroom, greatly to the captain's discomfiture. He bought a banjo and at his Toledo boarding house was so indefatigable in his practice on the idolized instrument that his landlady ordered him to leave. About this time he met two old minstrel men, and his enthusiasm for his new art so took possession of him that he quit school, got a boarding house where he could practice without interruption, and put his whole time to perfecting himself as a banjoist and clog. He organized a band of "Toledo Boy Minstrels" and appointed himself as director. He spent his capital in purchasing instruments and furniture for rehearsal quarters. The instruments were a tamborine, a triangle, an accordion and three sets of "bones" besides his banjo. Their rooms were above a German saloon, and Keeler says that the keeper lost nearly all TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 945 his trade by the continuous uproar that was made by the troupe overhead, the customers one by one seeking quieter places to quench their thirst. The owner of the building tried to eject them, but as they had paid their rent in advance, he was unsuccessful. The accordion artist could play but one tune from beginning to end, the "Gumtree Canoe." "Finally," continues Keeler, "I spent what was left of my summer's earnings before I could get them to a point that would warrant hope of success for public exhibitions which my minstrels were clamoring for. After long months of fruitless trial, the rent for our rooms becoming due, our furniture and instruments were seized ; the landlord turned us out of doors ; the German beer-seller crossed himself thankfully ; and I was completely ruined, as many a manager before me. I was still so small of stature and yet capable of producing so much noise with the copper on my heels, that, by the wholesale clerks and young bloods about Toledo, I was considered in the light of a prodigy and was made to shuffle my feet at almost all hours and in almost all localities." Young Keeler attracted the notice at this time of a conductor on the "Michigan, Southern and Indiana Railroad," the old Lake Shore west of Toledo. He procured a position as newsboy on this conductor's run, where he sold books and papers, and lemonade of his own manufacture. He was an independent agent and regulated his own prices. Toledo was his headquarters. "There were no sleeping cars in those times, and, I believe, no water tanks in the passenger cars," he wrote. "I never filled them if there were. * * * Taking a barrel of water and a pailfull of brown sugar, and a proper amount of a well known acid, I concocted lemonade which I sold through the train at five cents a glass." Here Keeler remarks that he sometimes sold, on a night train, $15 worth of this "vile compound." Next we find the boy in a fashionable Toledo boarding house. He speaks of a love romance, but gives no particulars. One evening he strolled into what was later known as the "St. Nicholas," where he met the noted minstrel manager of those days, Johnny Booker. "In the course of a few minutes," he continued, "I was conducted into a private room, where I was made to dance 'Juba' to the tune which the comedian himself gave me by means of his two hands and one foot. My performance it seems was satisfactory, for I was engaged upon the spot. * * * The great Napoleon in the coronation robes, which can be seen any day in the Tuileries, was no prouder or happier than I, when I made my initial bow before the footlights in my Canton flannel knee pants, cheap lace, gold tinsel, cork face and woolly wig. * * * So great indeed was the local pride of the good Toledoans in their 'infant phenomenon,' that after the company had exhibited a week (in Toledo) , my name was put up for a benefit. On that day I had the satisfaction of seeing hung across the street (Summit) on a large canvas, a watercolor representation of myself with one arm and one leg elevated, in the act of performing `Juba'." As the days went by, young Keeler became more proficient and advanced in his art. He speaks of giving a performance in Cleveland and 946 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY stopping at the old Weddell House. At Pittsburgh the company was stranded and disbanded. He joined another troupe in which he appeared as "the Scotch girl" and executed the "Highland Fling." Besides being an end man in the second negro part of the performance, he took part in the negro ballet and danced "Lucy Long." Turning up in Cincinnati, he joined Mike Mitchell, who organized the Mitchell minstrels, traveling through some of the neighboring states. Keeler's final and most successful minstrel venture was with Doctor Spaulding, the veteran manager who had been associated with old Dan Rice, the circus celebrity. Spaulding fitted out "The Floating Palace," a great boat built especially for show purposes, which was towed from place to place by a river steamer called the James Raymond. The Palace also boasted of a museum of special attractions. In the Raymond was a concert saloon. There were nearly 100 people in the company when the boats left Cincinnati. They gave performances on the Ohio as far up as Wheeling, and up and down nearly the whole length of the Mississippi, and on smaller streams like the Cumberland and Tennessee. Finally, Keeler said, "Going up the Mississippi River from Cairo, we passed, one Sunday, the old French town of Cape Girardeau, Mo., and its Roman Catholic college on the river bank. The boys were out on the lawn under the trees, and I became as envious of their lot as I had been before of a man who worked on a steamboat or who danced in the minstrels. I suddenly resolved that I would go to that college. We did not stop at Cape Girardeau till our return down the river, some weeks afterwards. Then I went boldly up and sought an interview with the president of the institution, Father Stephen Vincent Ryan." After the interview, Keeler continued with the Floating Palace to New Orleans. The company then took a regular steamer for Galveston, where they performed two or three weeks with great success. Here he remarks: "Except as a poor lecturer, I have never been on the stage since I left Galveston." Adhering to his purpose, Keeler ascended the Mississippi as far as Cairo in the steamer L. M. Kennett. It was midwinter and the river being frozen over, he reached the college at Cape Girardeau by land. Here for sixteen months he was a student in St. Vincent's College. Father Ryan was later a bishop stationed at Buffalo. Information from Rev. Daniel F. Kernaghan of St. Vincent's, says the records of the school show that Keeler began his studies there February 21, 1856, and left July 1, 1857. When Keeler was ready to leave, he drew on a deposit he had in a bank in Toledo, and fortunately secured free passage as far as Alton with a company of show people who were his old friends. Here he took railroad passage to Chicago and returned to Toledo. He evidently then hied himself to Kenyon College, Gambier. The writer of this story was fortunate in getting in touch with Rev. George B. Pratt of the Parish of St. Simons, Chicago, a classmate of Keeler (1864) and who in his eighty-fourth year with his estimable wife, when this was written, was enjoying life to the full. He remembers Keeler vividly, for the latter's life was spectacular even in college. "I was quite intimate with young Keeler," said the aged and esteemed pastor, "and my mother took great interest in his college career, as we TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 947 then lived in Gambier. And I am glad to recall the happy days at dear old Kenyon. Ralph was of a nervous temperament and a little erratic as a student—keen and smart. He was small of stature ; thin, with bloodless face, and something over twenty years old when I saw him last. In fact, he was one of the most unique figures that ever trod the 'Middle Path' of Kenyon College. There was only one other student who could match him as a graceful walker, and that was one Charlie Jones of Columbus. "When Ralph reached the end of the walk on the stone steps of the Middle Division," continued Doctor Pratt, "he would most likely turn around and give us boys the double shuffle of his 'negro minstrel' life. On one Washington's Birthday, in the old blue-pillared hall of the Nu Pi Kappa Society, the Kenyon boys gave a concert for the benefit of Ralph which netted $20 and which aided this popular student in his struggles for an education. We blacked our faces"—and here the narrator placed in the editor's hands an original copy of the program, yellowed with age and written with a pen. Here is the program in part : Overture, "Rosy O'Moore ;" "Hard Times," Webb ; "Kiss Me Quick and Go," Pratt ; Ellen Bayne, Mendenhall ; "Bold Privateer," Gill Shanklin ; Trio, Perry, Smith and Pratt ; Jig, Keeler (the gem of the entire outfit) ; Banjo Duet, Keeler and Pratt ; "Returned Volunteer," Keeler and Perry. Part III.—"Out in the Wilderness," which finished the entertainment. Questioned further, Doctor Pratt said Keeler's greatest ambition then was to write for the Atlantic Monthly. His ambition was realized perhaps earlier than he dreamed. "Ralph literally worked his way through college," affirmed Doctor Pratt. "He boarded himself for one season upstairs in a little white building to the right of the college gate in the park and did chores for members of the faculty. Mrs. Lang, wife of one of the professors, and my mother occasionally sent him over a dish of food. I carried many a dish of buckwheat cakes to him. Bob Wright kept the college hotel. 948 - STORY OF THE MAUMEE VALLEY Ralph was engaged as a waiter. He got one square meal a day, dinner, as pay." Among the "keepsakes" of old Kenyon memories, Doctor Pratt displayed, was a copy of the "Revile-Ye," a burlesque on the College Reveille of 1859. Here is reproduced an advertisement from its pages. This cut and many others in the Revile-Ye were "engraved" by Ralph. That is, they were boards taken from the pine drygoods boxes and cut out by the ingenious and resourceful Keeler with his jack-knife. The paper contained many pointed, personal hits and the engravings caricatured the learned professors, students and people of Gambier. One way Keeler earned a little money was by writing New Year's addresses and other copy for the Toledo Blade and the old Toledo Commercial. Doctor Pratt displayed a copy of the 1862 Toledo "Carrier Boy's New Year's Address," Ralph wrote for the Blade and mailed to him. The composition at one place refers to Lorin Andrews, one of the presidents of Kenyon, and who as colonel of the Fourth Ohio Regiment, was the first man in Ohio to offer his services to the governor as a private soldier in the Civil war. On the back of the newsboy's address, in Keeler's own handwriting, is this : "Dear George : Write and tell me all college news. Who heard the mental philosophy recitations last term? Whose chemistry did we use? Tell me, if you please, what are the text books for the coming term (the first of 1862) and to whom our class recites? Give my love to everybody —his wife and daughters. And believe me to be, sincerely your friend, R. K. Remember me to your mother." Doctor Pratt says that Ralph considered Toledo his ostensible home, that he was cast upon the world to shuffle for himself and that he did it splendidly, especially in the latter part of his life. "In the 'burial of Homer' at the end of our freshmen year (1859), Ralph took active part," said Doctor Pratt. "The program was deeply lined with black margins, and enriched by songs of his composition. He was essentially a poet and was chosen by the class to that honor. At the midnight hour, the eve of commencement day, the class of '62 formed themselves down in the wood south of the college, and marched up the entire length of the middle walk. There were many characters in appropriate dress, Ralph attired as a Greek poet with an olive wreath about his head, and the orator of the occasion at his side. They were followed by all the members of the class, about forty strong, concealed in long, white sheets with holes for the eyes to peep out ; each one carrying a huge lighted torch. I wish the poem of Ralph could have been preserved; for it was a rich one. The Greek books the boys had used filled the coffin, which was burned as a funeral pyre, and around which the class circled, singing a dirge to the tune of `Massa's in the cold, cold ground'." Here is a stanza of the dirge, written also by Keeler : Round the college am a-ringing The sophies' joyful song; All the sophomores are singing, Happy as the day is long; TOLEDO AND THE SANDUSKY REGION - 949 While the grasshopper is a-creeping Where the "cows" abound, There old Homer is a-sleeping, Sleeping in the cold, cold ground. Doctor Pratt concluded by stating that some of the richest songs of the Nu Pi Kappa society, full of merit, melody and rhythm, were written by Keeler. That as college productions they had probably never been excelled, and only that they were distinctly local and Kenyonesque, has prevented them from being more widely adopted. "Ralph hoed his own way through college by sheer force of audacious wit, good humor and indefatigable labor. He left the 'Hill' in debt to college, town, foe and friend, but every whit of it was reimbursed in after years. After sixty-four years of personal remembrance, I place him under the hue of the rose. I doubt whether there would be any memory thorns sticking in the mind and heart of any of the old boys, were they walking the path of life with me today." While this story of Ralph Keeler at Kenyon, coming from Doctor Pratt; is partly adapted from an article he wrote for the Kenyon Collegian, on "Ralph Keeler, A. M. '62," it does not detract from its interest and adds to its authenticity. A correspondent of the Cincinnati Gazette at Gambier, Ohio, who signed himself "E. T. T." (which were the initials of the president of Kenyon College, Dr. Eli T. Tappan), made the following statement of the the progress and standing of Ralph Keeler while at Kenyon ; "Mr. Keeler was for several years a student at Kenyon, but did not complete the course. He left at the end of his junior year in 1861. The cause of his leaving was want of means. He maintained himself here, pursued his studies, kept a fair standing in his class (one of the first in English composition and rhetoric exercises) , and was all the while one of the merriest of the students, while his expenses were at a figure that seems incredibly small. He paid no college fees, but at his departure he gave Mr. White, the treasurer, his promissory note for the full amount, assuring him that it would be paid some day ; and it was paid in full about ten years after, when Mr. Keeler had returned from Europe and published his first book. "Mr. White proposed to the Trustees that this money should, with certain other funds, be set apart for the aid of poor students, and denominated the Ralph Keeler fund. The Trustees accepted Mr. White's advice, and the fund was established. About the same time, the faculty of Kenyon College eonferred upon Mr. Keeler the honorary degree of Master of Arts, being satisfied that his subsequent studies were a full equivalent for that part of the college course which he had omitted. "When Mr. Keeler received my letter informing him of this action, he was in New Orleans. In his reply he spoke of an intended trip up the Mississippi, and after referring to the dangers of travel and the possibility of his death, he stated that it was his will that all his literary property and the copyrights should be devoted to the Ralph Keeler fund. Beneath the sunshiny surface which he usually displayed, there seemed always to run a more somber undercurrent." 32-VOL. 1