Warren County Local
History by Dallas Bogan |
Contributor: |
Dallas Bogan on 23 July 2004 |
Source: |
Dallas Bogan, Warren County, Ohio and Beyond (Bowie Maryland: Heritage Press, 1979) page 93 |
Return to Index to see a list of other articles by Dallas Bogan |
Harveysburg has in recent times been known as the "town by the lake."
However, each village has its own history. It is neatly situated about 100 feet
above the original course of Caesar's Creek. Its land lies in the Virginia Military
District of land distribution. The original owner under this jurisdiction was
Colonel Abraham Buford; deed recorded August 6, 1787.
The second proprietor was Rhoden Ham who located on it in March
1815. William Harvey was the next owner and proceeded to lay
out Harveysburg in 1828. Harvey divided the town into forty-seven lots along
the state road, now known as S.R. 73.
Harveysburg, like many other small communities, was a Quaker settlement. One
of the beliefs of the Society of Friends was nonviolence in any form. This encompassed
the slavery issue. This small town has on its east side (approximately one-half
mile) an old Indian trail called the Bullskin
Trace. This trace, or trail, was at one time one of the main routes the
Negro slaves used for their escape from Southern oppression. The principle objective
of the slaves was to traverse the Northern States and exit into Canada. This
trace served the purpose. The Bullskin
Trace was an extension of the many trails that wound through the South.
It started its Ohio course at the Ohio River, near the town of Rural on S.R.
133 (Rural was washed away in the 1913 flood), east of Cincinnati and wound
its way through the State to Detroit, Michigan.
Mrs. Walter McCarren notes that many of the slaves came up
from Cincinnati through Lebanon on present U.S. 42 and proceeded east on Middletown
Road, which, before the lake project, was complete to Harveysburg.
I have before me a paper written by an early resident of the vicinity of Harveysburg,
Jane F. Wales Nicholson.
She was born in 1806 and died in 1906. She was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Isaac Wales. I will
humbly endeavor to rewrite portions of her story. She writes:
"I can recall many features for our new home which I greatly enjoyed as
a child. My father worked on the land all day, sometimes in the evening would
be busy in the blacksmith shop. I being small could just reach the great bellows.
It was interesting to watch the iron grow red, and then see the sparks fly as
it was struck on the anvil. My father made hinges and all the iron work needed
for the new brick dwelling, which he soon prepared to build, except nails--these
he bought at Cincinnati, and made the purchase by carrying down a load of bacon,
which sold at two cents per pound. It took five days to make the journey then
from Harveysburg to Cincinnati, two to go and two to return, leaving one for
business there.
"There was plenty of game in the woods. It was not unusual to see a flock
of thirty or more wild turkeys fly up from the ground and alight on the tall
trees. They were fond of the beechnuts that covered the ground.
"Squirrels were abundant, and very destructive traps were set on every
few panels of fence around the corn field, and it was the duty of the morning
to go around and gather up the dead squirrels and re-set the traps.
"One quiet Sabbath when our parents had gone to Waynesville meeting and
we were alone, we were startled to see eight deer walking one after the other,
in Indian file down the bank of the creek, and drink from the salt lick near
where the bridge now stands.
"There was abundance of native fruit - excellent wild plums, crab apples
and wild gooseberries, which made excellent pies when green, cut when ripe the
beards hardened to thorns, and made it difficult to eat. There were wild raspberries,
and black berries sprang up wherever the ground was cleared.
"The first opening on the new farm was appropriated for an orchard. There
were no nurseries near and it was difficult to get fruit trees. One neighbor
brought his trees all the way from Kentucky, on horseback - besides peaches
and currants. We could get but sixteen apple trees, two of these died and the
remaining fourteen were cherished with greatest care.
"Three acres first cleared were sowed in rye the first fall, which ripens
early, and would be off in time to sow wheat the next fall. When ripe, my father's
hand cut it all with the sickle, in the absence of a wind-mill my mother helped
him winnow it with a sheet. Their first little harvest lay piled up on the bare
floor, when the officers came and took it all for a muster fine. The Friends
ignored all obligations to train for war, and one neighbor south of us on the
Miami, had, at great pains, collected a flock of forty Merino sheep, the first
in that section of the country, and the officer took them every one to pay his
muster fine.
"Improvements of all kinds came slowly but surely - compared with the present
comforts, the first settlers endured many privations. There were no washboards;
the soiled clothes had to be rubbed with the hands or pounded in a barrel. The
houses had very little except necessary furniture, of which the loom, the wheel,
the cards and reel, the break and hackle were an essential part. Every new farm
had its flax field. The fabrics for clothing and bedding were made in the home;
and the two Miami's, which have since turned so many mills for manufactories,
then flowed free from duty along their wooden banks. The improvements and inventions
have been greater in the last 70 years than ever before. In the next 70 they
may be still greater.
"The recreations and amusements were determined by the necessities and
industries of the time. For young people, apple cuttings; for men, huskings
and log-rollings, while matrons would quilt and pick wool.
"Travel often interrupted by swollen streams over which there were at first,
no bridges; heavy rains and melting snow would so increase the little runs along
the hills that fed Caesar's Creek, that it was often impassable at the ford.
"Many and frequent were the water-bound travelers waiting for its fall.
I recall one incident that caused great anxiety: The Friends who had discarded
form in worship retained some rigid ones in regards to dress; one of the desirable
symbols was the Quaker bonnet, its crown of stiff folds of intricate pleats,
was what few bonnet makers attempted. Those who could send to Philadelphia for
their bonnets; in a large assembly, as a Yearly Meeting we could always tell
the Philadelphia bonnet although they were also made at Richmond and at Waynesville.
"There was to be a wedding at Friends' meeting in Wilmington. The bride
and her attendants came to Waynesville for their bonnets, and sent for them
a day or two before the ceremony. The messenger did his errand, and came by
on his way back on horse-back, well loaded with hand-boxes, and finding Caesar's
Creek roaring too loud between the banks, he could not cross.
"He stopped with us. Next morning the creek was rising; he waited all day
- no fall. Next morning was the day of the wedding. The creek still too high
to ford, what was to be done? Would the wedding take place without the bonnets?
A council was held, S.G. Welch, an obliging young man, volunteered
to see them safely over the angry stream in time for meeting. He did so by going
down the stream a few miles to a shallow ford, and got them there in season.
Long afterward, he had the happiness to see his nephew married to a daughter
of the bride."
"We did not have books and papers in such numbers as are seen on the
tables today; but such as we had were chaste and good. I have now the copy of
Stearne's Reflection that my mother used to read, and several volumes of Addison's
Spectator that her father loved.
"There was a great desire among the people to educate their children. Some
other neighborhoods had schools, but they were far from us, and thick woods
intervening. Father and a few others met to select a place on his farm for the
school house. The intended patrons all volunteered their work. They brought
their axes and cut the trees and cleared a place for the house. They felled
a large oak tree to make clap-boards for the roof and puncheons for the floor.
Next day they brought horses and log chains to drag up the logs - a froe to
rive the boards and dress the puncheons.
"The chimney was built of sticks filled with mud, some stone slabs for
the back wall, no jams - the fire-place occupied the entire end of the room.
Stones instead of andirons held up the burning logs. Three or four logs from,
four to six feet long with scaly bark between, made the cabin shine with light,
and feel warm and comfortable. Boards were nailed over the openings of logs
inside plastered with mud on the outside to keep out the cold. A board door
with openings for light completed the first house of education between the Miami
River and Caesar's Creek. But how were the children to find their way there?
It was all dense wood excepts a field now and then cleared and planted in corn
and pumpkins. The fathers took the course, and blazed the trees, and made a
path through the under-brush. And over this narrow road through the woods, young
feet traveled, many and many a day. We were afraid of the wild hogs. They were
ugly looking creatures - red in color, with sharp noses and tusks. In winter
they lived on acorns and beech-mass, under the dry leaves in summer they lived
on the mussels which abounded in the creeks.
"On our way to school, we had our little trees picked out to climb, in
case we should meet a bear, as we were told they could not climb small trees.
Our first teacher was Judith Welch. It was feared that a young
woman could not manage boys, but she gave a good satisfaction for several months.
A large tree felled before the door, served for a table. To this we carried
our blankets and ate our mid-day meal.
"When the nooning was over the teacher came to the door and called 'books,
books!' Bells were scarce in those days - we could hardly get one for the cow,
and had none to spare for the school.
"The next teacher was Robert Way, a Pennsylvanian, but
had taught in Athens, Ohio. He brought the three readers: the Introduction,
English reader and Murray's Sequel; also a grammar by John Comley, a Quaker
preacher. I still have those old books.
"Some one passed the school house one day and found that all was still
and orderly; they mistook the quiet for idleness, and reported no learning there,
because the pupils did not 'say out of their books.' They called a meeting to
investigate and the teacher had to explain his method. He was a member of our
family a part of time--was a diligent student and studied late at night, wishing
exercise before retiring, that he might sleep well, he would walk briskly, up
and down the yard from the gate to the house. Passersby who did not understand
this gymnastic exercise, reported him. The neighbors watched him and became
alarmed, fearing reason was dethroned; this also had to be explained. He had
many prejudices to contend with. One of his older pupils, F.K., had a turning
lathe. Mr. Way got him to turn a sphere of wood upon which he traced the countries,
the zones, and meridians - thus making a globe to study geography from.
"The young man's mother was distressed, she thought it blasphemous for
man to imitate the works of God. She was, however, a strong character in the
community, a German by birth--had united with Friends in the South where she
walked seven miles to their meeting, often carrying a child in her arms, but
such was her early training that she could not divest her mind of superstition.
Robert Way remained a popular and useful teacher through a
long life. He afterwards taught my children and later, had a school for boys
in Springfield, Ohio.
"The next teacher was Isaac Thornburg, a native of North
Carolina and a graduate of one of her institutions. He was learned in Greek,
Latin and Hebrew, which few of his pupils needed. I remember, Owen Evans,
Cornelius Clark and Webster Welch studied
the languages. We had but few school months in the year, for the children, both
large and small assisted their parents at home.
"A school in the O'Neal neighborhood was superior to ours
in numbers. By boarding at our grandfather's and walking two miles we were able
to attend this.
"The first teacher I remember there was Morris Place,
a Friend from Richmond, Ind. He was succeeded by Thos. O'Brien,
also a Friend and just from Ireland. He was a cousin to William Horton,
who was also from Erin, a fine scholar and successful teacher.
"Thos. O'Brien had the hot temper and old country severity
in governing children, which did not agree with the liberty loving natures under
our institution. Aside from this, he was pleasant, kind, a very capable teacher;
but his threats, 'I'll flog you if you don't do thus and so,' rang continually
through the room, and he too often put in into practice. Both my nature and
training revolted at this, for there never was a switch in my father's house.
"One day, in the forenoon, he announced that he would whip M.E.
before night. I did not relish my dinner and trembled all day for fear the threat
would be executed. I don't remember the offense, a light one, but he was to
be made an example before the school. "This little boy, not over twelve,
took off his linsey coat and bore the stripes bravely. I felt like going to
the boy and comforting him. I could not study any more that day. I found an
excuse to remain at home next day for fear of a repetition of this sad practice.
If teachers and parents would practice kindness and forbearance, they would
lay a much better foundation for knowledge and goodness, than if they used threats
and punishment.
"Outside of school he was a refined, genial man, very intelligent and good
company. He was a frequent guest of my parents, and afterwards often sat at
my own table as long as he lived. I have met many of his pupils in Indiana,
and we have tried to excuse his severity, and use of the rod as a remnant of
the arbitrary rule of his own country. Let us hope there is a reformation there
as well as here in the treatment of tender children, whose unfolding minds look
to us for help and strength.
"Owing to the enterprise of Dr. Jesse Harvey, Harveysburg
was favored with a high school and boarding house to accommodate pupils from
a distance and those too remote to attend as day pupils. Excellent teachers
were employed, David S. Burson, who graduated at Friends College,
Haverford, Penn., and William Horton, before mentioned. Dr.
Harvey was fond of the natural sciences, and had besides a botanical garden,
a good museum, and from time to time specimens of wild animals.
"Early in the twenties my father hired a colored laborer to help him clear
the land, which was a very difficult thing to do. He gave one man the use of
twelve acres for five years if he would deaden the timber and cut down all the
trees that were one foot in diameter and under.
"This black man, known as Sam Green, came from South Carolina
with Wm. Henley. He had 'bought his sef,' to use his own expression,
vis., had hired his time of his master - worked for wages elsewhere - and kept
the overplus, and after it had accumulated to the price of his manhood, paid
this to his master, and by this means made a present of himself to himself.
He was honest and industrious and assisted in clearing many a field of stumps
and roots that others might turn the soil with an uninterrupted plow-share.
"But as old age crept on, the horrors of his early life in slavery, stood
so vividly before him, that he became deranged. He would hide around in fields
and woods, thinking that the slave-hunters were seeking him to take him back
to slavery. He carried with him a long stick into which he had driven nails
to defend himself.
"Once he stayed out so long that he was almost starved. My sympathy with
him was great, he confided all his fears to me and asked me to conceal him.
I took him up in the garret where I hoped he would rest; but he stole out and
went again to the woods. Shortly after he was found sitting up by a tree, dead.
This was a very sorrowful case. My interest in him prepared me for further work
which I afterwards had to do for the poor unfortunate Negro in his efforts for
freedom.
"About this time there were many slaves fleeing from their masters and
from blood-hounds on their track. On their way to Canada they required shelter,
food, clothing and transportation. In this capacity I worked for twenty years
- until all were free by the Emancipation Proclamation. Hundreds that passed
through, stopped at my house - ate at my table - I heard their tales of hardship;
their desire for freedom, and the danger and sacrifice they were making to obtain
it. Many had left near and dear relatives behind; some mothers left babes in
the cradle.
"Nearly every one had a story of tragedy of pathos that will fade with
the memory that now holds them. In the record of one year the number that came
was eighty-six, but in other years I know we had many more.
"We were but one short night's ride from Cincinnati, and to our home came
the slave, Lewis, whose case is notable, because the first
tried under the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850. The trial was in Cincinnati, and
lasted many days.
"John Jollif aided by Rutherford B. Hayes
tried all the technicalities of the law to secure his freedom, but in vain.
He sat in the court room between his master and the state marshal who had him
in custody.
"While the sentence was being read that remanded him to slavery, Lewis
slipped his chair back quietly, arose, and before the judge had finished reading,
stepped into a group of colored people conveniently near, one handed him a hat,
another pointed to the door.
"The court room was crowded but a way opened to let him pass. In a moment
he was in the street and gone, before the multitude in the court house could
realize what had happened. He made his way out of town and hid for a few hours
in a colored grave yard.
"At night the sexton brought him to a friend's house in the city. In the
disguise of a woman they took him to the basement of a Presbyterian Church,
where he remained concealed for several weeks in one of the committee rooms,
his meals being carried to him.
"One morning he came out dressed as a nurse with a veil over his face and
a child in his arms, took a seat in a carriage with the pastor and his wife,
Dr. and Mrs. Boynton, and before sunset they were at our fireside.
"A little daughter, was rather astonished to see an awkward molatto woman
go upstairs, and come down a brisk slender young man.
"The foiled master claimed one thousand dollars from the marshal for the
loss of his slave: but by compromise he received but eight hundred.
It is known that the marshal, disguised as a Quaker, visited, under various
pretenses, our and other neighborhoods of Friends in hopes of finding Lewis
and saving his money."
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