Hamilton County IN Archives History - Books .....Chapter XII - Incidents And Stories, Part 1 1901
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Book Title: A History Of The Formation, Settlement And Development Of Hamilton County, Indiana

CHAPTER XII. Incidents and Stories.
The Indian Murders.

   As early as 1821 two cabins were built in what is now known as Fall Creek
Township. One of these cabins was built on the south bank of Fall Creek at the
mouth of Thorpe's Creek. This creek had not received its present name at that
time. The other cabin was built on the north bank of Fall Creek on the land that
was owned by John Patterson at the time of his death, and near where the old
Indian trace, leading from Noblesville to Greenfield, crossed the creek. These
two cabins were found vacated by the first permanent settlers of Fall Creek
Township, and they never knew who built them. The writer of this history learned
by accident that the last named cabin was built by a man by the name of Bridge,
and, as will be shown hereafter, it is probable that the first named cabin was
built by a man by the name of Sawyer, who was a brother-in-law to Bridge. Bridge
frequently visited the trading-post of William Conner. There was, at the time,
an Indian trail leading past Bridge's cabin from the east to William Conner's
trading post, and when asked what he was doing he said hunting and trapping.
Early in the spring of 1824 a hunting party of Seneca Indians, consisting of two
men, three squaws and four children, encamped on the east side of Fall Creek
about eight miles northeast of the present site of Pendleton. At this time the
country was new and the population scattered here and there in the woods. Game
was plenty and the Indian hunting grounds had not been forsaken by many of the
tribes. The country around the camping grounds of the Indians was a dense,
unbroken forest, and although these Indians were friendly, the white settlers
felt some alarm and kept a watchful eye upon them. The principal Indian was
named Ludlow; the other man was called Mingo. The Indians commenced their season
of hunting and trapping—the men with their guns, and the squaws setting the
traps, preparing and cooking the game and caring for the children— two boys some
ten years old and two girls of more tender years. A week had rolled around and
the success of the Indians had been only fair, with better prospects ahead. As
the spring was opening and raccoons were beginning to leave their holes in the
trees in search of the frogs that had begun to leave their muddy beds at the
bottom of the creeks, the trapping season was only just commencing. Ludlow and
his band, wholly unsuspicious of harm and unconscious of any approaching
enemies, were seated around their camp fire, when there approached through the
wood five white men, Harper, Sawyer, Hudson, Bridge, Sr., and Bridge, Jr. Harper
was the leader and stepping up to Ludlow, took him by the hand and told him that
his party had lost their horses and wanted Ludlow and Mingo to help find them.
The Indians agreed to go in search of the horses. Ludlow took one path and Mingo
another. Harper followed Ludlow and Bridge, Sr., trailed Mingo, keeping some
fifty yards behind. They traveled some short distance from the camp, when Harper
shot Ludlow through the body. He fell dead on his face. Hudson, on hearing the
crack of the rifle of Harper, immediately shot Mingo, the ball entering just
below his shoulder and passing through his body, killing him instantly. The
party then met and proceeded within gunshot of the camp. Sawyer then shot one of
the squaws through the head. She fell and died without a struggle. Bridge, Sr.,
shot another squaw, and Bridge, Jr., the other. Both fell dead. Sawyer then
fired at the oldest boy, but only wounded him. The other children were shot by
some of the party. Harper then led on to the camp, where the squaws, one boy and
the two girls lay dead. The oldest boy was still living and Sawyer took him by
the legs and knocked his brains out against the end of a log. The camp was then
robbed of everything worth carrying away. Harper, supposed to be the ring
leader, left immediately and was never taken. Hudson, Sawyer, Bridge, Sr., and
Bridge, Jr., were arrested and confined in a square log jail, built of heavy
beech and sugar tree logs, notched down closely and fitting tight above, below
and on the sides, all heavily ironed. Hudson was a man of about middle size,
with a bad look, dark eye and bushy hair and about thirty-five years of age.
Sawyer was about the same age, rather heavier than Hudson, but there was nothing
in his appearance that could have marked him in a crowd as any other than a
common farmer. Bridge, Sr., was much older than Sawyer, his head was quite gray.
He was above the common height, slender and a little bent when standing. Bridge,
Jr., was some eighteen years of age, a tall stripling. Bridge, Sr., was the
father of Bridge, Jr., as I have said, and the brother-in-law of Sawyer. The
news of these Indian murders flew upon the wings of the wind. The settlers
became greatly alarmed, fearing the retaliatory vengeance of the tribes and
especially the other bands of Senecas. The facts reached Mr. John Johnston, at
the Indian agency at Piqua, O. An account of the murders was sent from the
agency to the War Department at Washington City. Col. Johnston and William
Conner visited all of the Indian tribes and assured them that the Government
would punish the offenders, and obtained the promise of the chiefs and warriors
that they would wait and see what their "Great Father" would do before they took
the matter into their own hands. This quieted the fears of the settlers and
preparation was commenced for the trials. A new log building was erected in the
north part of Pendleton with two rooms, one for the court and the other for the
grand jury. The court room was about 20x30 feet, with a heavy puncheon floor and
a platform at one end, three feet high, with a strong railing in front. It had a
bench for the judges, a plain table for the clerk, in front on the floor a long
bench for the counsel, a little pen for the prisoners, a side bench for the
witnesses, and a long pole in front substantially supported to separate the
crowd from the court and bar. A guard by day and night was placed around the
jail. The court was composed of William W. Wick, presiding judge; Samuel
Holliday and Adam Winchel, associate judges. Judge Wick was young on the bench,
but had had much experience in criminal trials. Judge Winchel was one of the
best and most conscientious of men. He was a blacksmith by trade and had ironed
the prisoners. He was an honest, but illiterate man. Both associate judges were
without any pretensions to legal knowledge. Moses Cox was the clerk. He could
barely write his name. Samuel Cory, the sheriff, was a fine specimen of a woods
Hoosier, without fear of man or beast, with a voice that made the woods ring as
he called the jurors and witnesses. The State was thus prepared for the trials.
In the meantime the Government was not sleeping. Col. Johnston, the Indian
agent, was directed to attend the trials to see that the witnesses were present
and to pay their fees. Gen. James Noble, then a United States Senator, was
employed by the Secretary of War to prosecute, with power to fee an assistant.
Philip Sweetzer, a young son-in-law of the General, of high promise in his
profession, was selected by the General as his assistant. Calvin Fletcher was
the regular prosecuting attorney, then a young man of more than ordinary
ability, and a good criminal lawyer. The only inn at Pendleton was a new7 frame
house near the creek. When the day for the trial of Hudson, one of the
prisoners, arrived, a number of the distinguished lawyers of this State were in
attendance and several from the State of Ohio." Among the most noted I name Gen.
James Noble, Philip Sweetzer, Harvey Clegg, Lot Bloomfield, James Rariden,
Charles W. Zest, Calvin Fletcher, Daniel E. Wick and William R. Morris, of this
State. Two from Ohio were Gen. Sampson Mason and Moses Vance. Judge Wick was
absent in the morning and William R. Morris arose and moved the associate judges
as follows: "I ask that these gentlemen be admitted as attorneys and counselors
at this bar. They are regular practitioners, but have not brought their licenses
with them." Then the following took place: Judge Winchel—"Have they come here to
defend the prisoners?" Mr. Morris—"The most of them have." Judge Winchel—"Let
them be sworn, nobody but a lawyer would defend a murderer." Mr. Morris—"I move
the court for a writ of habeas corpus to bring up the prisoners now legally
confined in jail." Judge Winchel—"For what?" Mr. Morris—"A writ of habeas
corpus." Judge Winchel—"What do you want to do with it?" Mr Morris—"To bring up
the prisoners and have them discharged." Judge Winchel—"Is there any law for
that?" Mr. Morris read the statute regulating the writ of habeas corpus. Judge
Winchel— "That act, Mr. Morris, has been repealed long ago." "Your Honor is
mistaken," replied Mr. Morris, "it is a constitutional writ as old as Magna
Charta itself." "Well, Mr. Morris, to cut the matter short," said the Judge, "it
will do you no good to bring out the prisoners. I ironed them myself, and you
will never get those irons off until they have been tried, habeas corpus or no
habeas corpus. Motion overruled." Judge Wick then entered and took his seat
between the two side judges. Judge Wick—"Call the grand jury." All answered to
their names, and were sworn. Court then adjourned for dinner. After dinner the
court met, and the grand jury brought an indictment for murder, drawn by Mr.
Fletcher against Hudson. Counsel on both sides—"Bring the prisoners into the
court." The Court—"Sheriff put a jury in the box." Sheriff—"May it please the
Court, Dr. Highday just handed me a list of names to call on the jury." Judge
Wick ordered the Doctor brought into court. Dr. Highday—"Did Your Honor wish to
see me?" Judge Wick—"Dr. Highday, is this your handwriting?" Doctor—"I presume
it is," Judge Wick—"Dr. Highday, we have no jail to put you in, as the one we
have is full, so hear your sentence. It is the judgment of the Court that you be
banished from the court grounds until the trials are over. Sheriff, see that the
judgment of the Court is carried strictly into execution." Hudson, the prisoner,
was brought into court by the deputy sheriff and two of the guards. His
appearance had greatly changed since his arrest and imprisonment with his
comrades in crime. He was now pale, haggard and downcast, and with a faltering
voice answered on his arraignment, "Not guilty." The petit jury were hardy,
honest pioneers, wearing moccasins and side knives. The evidence occupied but a
single day, and was positively closing every door of hope to the prisoner. The
prosecuting attorney read the statute creating and affixing the punishment to
the homicide, and plainly stated the substance of the evidence. He was followed
for the prisoner in able, eloquent and powerful speeches, appealing to the
prejudice of the jury against the Indians, relating in glowing colors the early
massacre of white men, women and children by the Indians, reading the principal
incident in the history of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton, relating their
cruelties at the battles of Blue Licks and Bryant's Station, and not forgetting
the defeat of Braddock, St. Clair and Harmar. Gen. James Noble closed the
argument for the State in one of his forcible speeches, holding up to the jury
the bloody clothes of the Indians and appealing to the justice, patriotism and
love of the laws, not forgetting that the safety of the settlers might depend
upon the conviction of the prisoners, as the chiefs and warriors expected
justice to be done. The speech of the General had a marked effect upon the
crowd, as well as the jury. Judge Wick charged the jury at some length, laying
down the law of homicide in its different degrees and distinctly impressing upon
the jury that the law knew no distinction as to nation or color; that the murder
of an Indian was equally as criminal in law as the murder of a white man. The
jury retired in the evening and in the morning brought in a verdict of murder in
the first degree. A motion for a new trial was overruled; the prisoner was
brought into court and the sentence of death pronounced in the most solemn
manner by Judge Wick. The time for the execution was fixed for a distant day. In
the meantime Hudson made his escape from the guard one dark night and hid
himself in a hollow log in the woods, where he was found and arrested. Time
rolled on. The fatal day for the execution arrived. Multitudes of people were
there, and among them were seen several Senecas, relatives of the murdered
Indians. The gallows were erected just above the falls on Fall Creek on the
north side. The people covered the surrounding hills, and at the appointed hour
Hudson, by the forfeiture of his life, made the last earthly atonement for his
crime. The other cases were continued until the next term of court.

Trial of Sawyer.

   Monday morning of the next term came, and court met. Judge Eggleston and
Judges Adam Winchel and Samuel Holliday, associate judges, took their seats,
with Moses Cox at the clerk's desk, Samuel Cory on the sheriffs platform and
Col. John Berry, captain of the guards, leaning against the logs. The grand jury
were called, sworn and charged, and court adjourned for dinner. In the afternoon
the evidence of the main witnesses was heard. O. H. Smith, prosecuting attorney,
had prepared indictments in his office in Indianapolis. These he presented to
the foreman of the grand jury. The foreman signed the bills on his knee, and
they were returned into court before the adjournment that night. The court met
the next morning. It was agreed between counsel for the State and defense that
Sawyer should be tried first for the shooting of one of the squaws. The prisoner
was brought into court. He appeared haggard and very much changed by his long
confinement. The court room was crowded. Gen. James Noble, Philip Sweetzer and
O. H. Smith appeared for the State and James Rariden, Lot Bloomfield, William R.
Morris and Charles H. Zest for the prisoner. Judge Eggleston—"Sheriff, call the
petit jury." Judge Winchel—"Sheriff, call 'Squire Makepeace on the jury, he will
be a good juror. He will not let one of these murderers get away." Judge
Eggleston, turning to Judge Winchell—"This will never do. What, the Court pick a
jury to try a capital case?" The jury was soon impaneled. The evidence was
conclusive that the prisoner had shot one of the squaws at the camp after the
killing of Ludlow and Mingo by Harper and Hudson. This jury, too, were a hardy,
heavy-bearded set of men, with side knives in their belts, and all wore
moccasins. Mr. Sweetzer opened for the State with a strong speech. He was
followed in able speeches by Mr. Morrison, Mr. Zest and Mr. Rariden for the
prisoner. General Noble closed for the State. The case went to the jury under an
able charge from Judge Eggleston and court adjourned for dinner. At the meeting
of court after dinner, the jury returned the verdict of guilty of manslaughter,
two years of hard labor in the penitentiary. Sawyer was immediately put upon
trial before the same jury for the murder of the Indian boy at the camp. The
evidence was heard and was conclusive against the prisoner. Able speeches were
made by counsel for the State and also for the prisoner. The jury was charged by
the Court and retired for deliberation. After an absence of only a few minutes
the jury returned a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree. The
prisoner was remanded and court adjourned. The next morning the case of Bridge,
Sr., for shooting a little girl at the Indian camp, was called. The prisoner
entered with the sheriff. A jury was impaneled. The proof was positive. The case
was argued as in the case of Sawyer; the jury was charged and after a few
minutes' absence, returned a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree.

   The only remaining case, the one of the young Bridge for the shooting of the
other Indian boy at the camp, came on next.

   The trial was more brief, but the result was the same —verdict of murder in
the first degree, but with a recommendation to the Governor for a pardon in
consequence of his youth, in which the Court and bar joined. The trials closed,
motions for new trials overruled and court adjourned until the next day. The
next morning the prisoners were brought into court and the sentence of death was
pronounced. The time for the execution was fixed for a distant day, but it soon
rolled around. The gallows were erected on the north bank of Fall Creek, just
above the falls. When the hour for the execution had arrived, thousands
surrounded the gallows. A Seneca chief, with his warriors, was posted near the
brow of the hill. Sawyer and Bridge, Sr., ascended the scaffold together, and
were executed in quick succession, and died without a struggle. The vast
audience was in tears. The exclamation of the Senecas was interpreted, "We are
satisfied." An hour expired, the bodies were taken down and laid in their
coffins, when there was seen ascending the scaffold, Bridge, Jr., the last of
the convicts. His step was feeble, requiring the aid of the sheriff; the rope
was adjusted. He threw his eyes around upon the audience and then down upon the
coffins, where lay, exposed, the bodies of his father and his uncle. From that
moment his wild gaze too clearly showed that the scene had been too much for his
youthful mind. Reason had partially left her throne and he stood wildly looking
at the crowd, apparently unconscious of his position. The last minute had come,
when James B. Kay, Governor of the State, announced to the immense assemblage
that the convict was pardoned. Perhaps never before did an audience more
heartily respond, while there was a universal regret that the executive mercy
had been deferred to the last moment. Thus ended the first trials in the United
States where convictions for murder were had and followed by the execution of
white men for killing Indians.

   Bridge, Sr., Bridge, Jr., and Sawyer resided in Fall Creek Township, Hamilton
County, Indiana. Hudson lived in Hancock County, Indiana, very near Sawyer and
Bridge, Sr. It was not known where Harper lived. It was evident that the
conspiracy to murder these Indians was formed in Hamilton County, Indiana, and
as three of the guilty parties resided therein, it is proper that the whole
circumstance should be related in this work. The main facts in connection with
the murders and the trials of murderers, I have taken from the reports of the
murders and trials written by O. H. Smith and published in his work entitled,
"Early Indiana Trials and Sketches." The other facts I learned from the old
settlers.

The Old Ferry Boat.

   In March, 1846, the Board of County Commissioners granted William Carlin a
license to erect and maintain a ferry across White River at Noblesville. Under
this authority Mr. Carlin constructed a flat boat sufficiently large to hold a
wagon and four horses. He then procured a large rope which he fastened to a tree
on the west bank of the river, and the other end to a windlass on the east bank.
By means of the windlass the rope could be tightened or loosened as was
required. Two smaller ropes with pulleys connected the boat with the larger
rope. These small ropes were so arranged that when the boat was crossing to the
west bank the rope at the east end would allow that end to drift down stream
further than the front. The pulleys ran along on the large rope so that when the
boat was pushed from the shore the force of the current would send the pulleys
forward on the rope. By this means the boat was sent across the stream. On the
return trip the rope on the west end of the boat was lengthened and the one on
the east taken up. On arriving at either bank an apron attached to the boat was
thrown forward which made a passageway to the shore. For foot passengers an old
canoe was used. The toll for foot passengers was five cents each, a man and one
horse ten cents, for a wagon, driver and two horses twenty cents, for a
one-horse vehicle fifteen cents, for wagon and three horses twenty-five cents,
for wagon and four horses thirty-five cents, for each head of cattle two and
one-half cents,/for each hog or sheep one cent. Public messengers were ferried
free. The writer was keeper of the ferry during the January flood of 1847, and
had some thrilling experiences. At one time a man drove a two-horse wagon onto
the boat, leaving the horses attached to the wagon. He had with him a woman and
two children. The ropes were adjusted and the boat pushed from the shore. The
river was very high and the current strong. The center of the stream had been
passed going west when the rope at the east end of the boat broke letting it
drift down stream, throwing the weight on the rope at the west end. It was a
question whether that would hold the boat. If it should break all would be lost.
The woman began to scream and the children to cry. A long pole was used to
relieve the weight on the short rope and the opposite shore was reached in
safety. This ferry was used in time of high water until a bridge was built; then
it was discontinued.

Muster Day.

   For several years after the organization of this county an organization of
the militia was kept up. At stated periods all able-bodied men of the age of
twenty-one and under fifty were required to meet at certain places, designated,
for drill and to learn military tactics. The militia of this county, except a
portion in the west part of the county, met at Conner's mill, southwest of
Noblesville. After the men had assembled at or near the muster ground, the
colonel, or in his absence the next highest in rank, ordered the men to fall in
line. Then the officer in command, superbly mounted, with his plume fastened to
his hat and his sword at his side, would ride along the entire length of the
line, lining up the men. Then the teaching of the manual of arms began; then the
marching and countermarching until recess. After recess the practice continued
for some time, after which the men were dismissed.

   Muster day was a gala day. It must not be supposed that none were present
except the militia, for every body else were there also for the purpose of "seem
the fun," as they would say. All the athletes were there to exhibit themselves
and to make matches. The men and boys who claimed to be fleet of foot were there
to win races and wagers if possible. "Old scores" were settled in the manner
customary at this time. The man with his jug or keg of whisky was there to pick
up his 6 1/4 or 12 1/2 cent piece. If it happened to be in the water-melon
season, the water-melon vender was there. Many instances of note happened on
these occasions. If two men chanced to meet on muster day who were not on
friendly terms, they were almost certain to settle their difficulty by resorting
to blows, or "fight it out" as the encounter would be termed, and the best man
was voted to have had the honest or right side of the case. This was not right
for the reason that might did-not make right then any more than it does at the
present time. But it was too often the case that the right or wrong of quarrels
were determined in this way in those early times.

   On one occasion a man drove a wagon load of melons near the muster grounds
preparatory, to selling them. This was early in the day. So he unhitched his
horses from the wagon and tied them to the saplings near by, and then called his
bull-dog and placed him in the wagon in charge of the load of melons, and
started away to take a stroll around the grounds. He was told that he had better
stay with his wagon if he wished to save his melons, but he stopped abruptly in
his walk, and with all assurance possible said that he would give the entire
load of melons to any man who would be able, in his absence, "to get on that
wagon." Solomon Finch was present at the time and, although he was then one of
the County Commissioners, determined to get possession of that load of melons.
So he repaired to the mill-race that had just been constructed and filled his
hat with stones of the proper size and walked to within a short distance of the
wagon of melons. He then began throwing those stones against the wagon bed,
taking good care not to hit the dog that was in the wagon. He kept up this
throwing and pounding against the wagon, making all the noise he could with the
stones, until the dog, not knowing what made the noise or where it came from,
became frightened and ran away. Finch then took absolute possession of the wagon
and melons and told the by-standers that when the original owner came back he
would divide the melons among them. Shortly the original owner appeared and
found Finch in possession and his dog absent. He was filled with astonishment,
of course, and manifested a disposition to go back on his word, but it was
neither the time nor the place for a man to attempt to do anything of that kind,
so he gave up his melons and they were divided among the people present.

The Story of John Rhoads.

   The Underground Railway was the name given to the route over which the
friends of slaves spirited these poor, oppressed people from the land of the
slave-holder to the land of the free, the destination being, for the most part,
in the Dominion of Canada. These friends of the slave gave their time, money and
best thoughts to this humane but, at that time, illegal enterprise, many of them
risking their lives and liberty in this cause. They engaged in this work without
hope of reward other than that of the consciousness that they had helped some
poor soul escape from the lash of the cruel task-master to the land where he
could enjoy the fruits of his own labor and to a land where there was no more
separation of families at the auction block. Hamilton County bears the
distinction and the proud honor of being the home of several depots, or
stations, for one or more lines of these Underground Railways.

   Referring to the life of George Boxley, as given in this work, it will be
seen that the system of Underground Railway had its origin in the slave States.
And, referring to our State Constitution and the laws passed pursuant thereto,
it will also be observed that all persons in this State participating in the
business of concealing or in any way aiding slaves in their efforts to escape
from slavery took great risks upon themselves. But, notwithstanding this fact,
many noble men and women in this county did render valuable aid to slaves who
were making their escape from bondage. The late Hon. Fred Douglas, in his day
one of the most eloquent men in our country, was once a slave and was brought to
Westfield by means of the underground railway system on his way to freedom, and
remained over night at the home of Ephraim Stout.

   But while there were many good men in our county who gave assistance to
run-away slaves, perhaps a very large majority of our people not only oppsosed
[sic] any such aid to the slave, but were just as strongly opposed to the slave
himself. This was shown in many ways. At one time Fred Douglas was advertised to
speak in Noblesville, but when the time came for him to speak he was met by a
mob that was determined that he should not speak, and his friends were obliged
to spirit him away to preserve him from injury. Not far from the same time
Douglas was billed to speak at Pendleton, and on that occasion he was actually
mobbed and egged, and many men from this county participated in that disgraceful
affair. But in the course of a few years the sentiment had wonderfully changed;
for after the war he spoke in Noblesvillle [sic] to a very large and
enthusiastic audience, all of whom seemed to be glad to do honor to this great
orator.

   In 1837 John Rhoads and wife. Louan, and one child, all colored, were taken
to the home of Joseph Bailey, west of Deming, in the night time, in a closely
covered wagon, where they were to remain in hiding for a few days for the
purpose of resting, when it was expected to proceed on their journey to Canada.
At this time John and Louan were slaves and had been from the time of their
birth. Here it was that they had toiled from year to year, day in and day out,
for their lord and master, and frequently received brutal chastisement from a
brutal overseer for trivial and possibly no offense whatever. Some have claimed
that they were born in Kentucky, but, be that as it may, their early lives were
probably spent in the cotton and tobacco fields of Missouri.

   Just why or how it happened I do not know, but from some reason John and
Louan, who had become husband and wife and to whom had been born one child, were
taken by their master into the state of Illinois for the purpose of working them
as slaves upon the prairies of that State. They remained here, just how long I
do not remember, working for their master, but it was for a longer time than six
months, when the slave owner began to hear it whispered around that John and
Louan had lived in a free State long enough to entitle them, by law, to their
freedom. He then concluded that it was time for him to remove his human property
from that free into a slave State, and this he did. He purchased a place in
Missouri and to this plantation he took John and Louan. John had heard of
Canada, and while he was in the great free State of Illinois he also had heard
of people that were called abolitionists and of the underground railway, and it
is possible that he and his wife had talked over these matters frequently and
may be some of their conversations had been overheard by their master. John and
Louan were ever on the alert. A stranger from one of the slave States farther
south did not do much talking around their master's house without being heard by
these intelligent, liberty-loving slaves, and their watchfulness was at last
rewarded. In one of these "overheard" conversations they learned that Louan was
to be sold to a southern planter and separated from her husband and child. It
was then that they began to review all that they had learned of Canada and the
underground railway, and it was not long until they began to devise ways to test
the worth to the slave of this peculiar railway.

   One who had never been a slave could not imagine the feelings of John Rhoads
and his wife when they learned that she was to be sold like a dumb brute and
separated from her husband and child. Although filled with grave apprehensions
and fear, they did not despair. Carefully concealing and suppressing their grief
and fears in the presence of the slave dealer and their master, they at once
decided upon a desperate effort at escape, and with this idea in their minds
they at once began thinking of the possibility, or rather plausibility, of an
attempt at escape. They were in a slave State, and among those ready at any
moment, should they attempt to escape, to pursue and capture them dead or alive.
Unfortunately, also, for them, John was at this time quite lame from an
accident, but he was, nevertheless, strong and active. They at once began making
preparations. John secured a saw, an ax and a hammer and packed them into a
small bundle. John was to take charge of these and Louan was to take charge of
the little boy. Thus prepared they stole out into the darkness from their little
cabin in their race for liberty. They had traveled over a road from Illinois to
their master's plantation in Missouri, and of course had some knowledge of the
country through which they could pass, provided they should take the same route,
and this they decided to do.

   They left their cabin as early as possible in the evening and traveled all
night, and about morning of the next day, providentially, as it appeared to
them, came to a very large swamp. They entered into this swamp and, by accident
or otherwise, found a place where they could lie down and rest during the day.'
They were not disturbed during this day, and at nightfall they again resumed
their journey, continuing in the same direction in which they started. They
traveled as far as they could on this second night and about the break of day
found another safe hiding place, and of this they availed themselves for another
day's rest, but before another night passed they were in a world of trouble.

   As soon as the master discovered that John and his family had left, he knew
they were on a runaway trip, but he did not know the course they had taken, and
neither did he know their objective point. And after quite an amount of inquiry
and search without becoming any the wiser, he resorted to the blood-hound theory
which he proceeded to put into practice. The hounds were finally secured and
placed upon the tracks of the runaways. It has been said that future events
sometimes cast their shadows beforehand. Be this as it may, John Rhoads was much
disturbed in his sleep on this last night, for he had what he called a vision.
In his sleep he saw two fugitive slaves with a child fleeing from a brutal
slave-owner and his hounds. He had the feelings of a husband and father that
this awful scene meant that they might be torn to pieces by the savage
blood-hounds, or that, what was worse, family ties broken, himself sent to one
portion of the Gulf States, his wife to another, and still his little boy to
another, where there was incessant toil with nothing but despair and unrequited
service for unfeeling and inhuman tack-masters. John awoke in excitement. It was
near nightfall. They hastily partook of the little remnant of food they had
taken with them, emerged from their hiding place and again began their journey.
They continued traveling in this way, sleeping and resting in daytime and
traveling at night, and all the time subsisting upon corn, potatoes and such
things as they could gather without being seen. They were conscious most of the
time that they were being pursued by hounds, and this was the case; but they
managed in some way to throw them off their trail. At last they came to the
Mississippi River, and John at once began the construction of a raft. This rude
boat was made from logs and poles cut from the banks of the river. These were
tied together with hickory bark and pliant saplings. At last all was ready. He
cut a good pole for a paddle, placed the tools upon the raft with which it had
been constructed, and after he, his wife and child had placed themselves upon
this rude craft, John pushed for the opposite shore on the Illinois side. When
about one-third of the way over his pursuers, with their dogs, reached the banks
of the river, and they hastily prepared a raft, but before they could get it
ready John and his family were safely on the opposite shore. They reached the
shore at a point where no one lived and started for the interior of the country
as fast as they could go, and before their pursuers could get their raft ready
and had crossed to the Illinois side, John was far beyond them. The pursuers,
however, did not give up the chase, but began hunting the trail, and offered
large rewards for their capture, and advertised extensively for information. By
these means they were able to learn the direction the fugitives took and at last
found their trail. John, in the meantime, was going on his way for liberty as
fast as he could travel, but at last he was caught and he and his family were
placed in jail to await the procurement of the proper papers to enable him to
remove slaves out of a free State back into a slave State.

   The reflections of these poor people were anything but pleasant, for if this
effort to escape should result in nothing but a return to slavery, their lot
would be all the worse for having: made the-effort. But the news of their
capture flew like "wild-fire," and as there were abolitionists in that section
of the State, John's help was much nearer than he supposed. Meetings were held
by these abolitionists and resolutions were adopted looking to the rescue of
these liberty-loving people. Communications were soon opened up with John, and
this resulted in a plan for the release of him and his little family. The time
was fixed for the rescue, and so perfectly had all been planned that John and
Louan and their child were taken from the jail and placed upon the underground
railway. By this means they were spirited across the State of Illinois into
Indiana, and finally into Hamilton County, landing as before stated at the home
of Joseph Bailey, near the little town of Deming. John's pursuers had lost trace
of him as completely as if he had been drowned in the river, and they finally
returned to the State of Missouri.

   John's purpose was to go on to Canada, but his many friends around Deming
prevailed upon him to remain there, assuring him that he could never be taken
from there, so the counsel of his friends prevailed. He and his family were
almost worn out and almost starved, but after resting a while they entered upon
the career of freemen. Some one furnished them a home, and this neighbor gave
them one thing and that one something else, until they were prepared to go to
housekeeping and to work. They found plenty of work, which they performed
willingly and well. At last John purchased a little patch of ground upon which
he built a cabin and lived in his own home, but he slept as it were with one eye
open. No window was ever placed in this cabin and there was but one door. John
never did feel absolutely secure. He always had an ax at the head of his bed. He
feared that under the laws as they then were he might yet be captured and taken
back into slavery, and as after events proved, he had ample reasons for
harboring such fears.

   A man by the name of Mr. Vaughn claimed to be the owner and master of the
Rhoads family, and he it was that followed them so closely with his human
hunters and blood-hounds. The slave name of John Rhoads was Sam Burk. On account
of this assumed name it made it all the harder for Vaughn to get any trace of
his former slaves, and the way he finally obtained information concerning them
illustrates how an innocent remark may, at times, do an innocent party much
wrong, or cause him a great deal of trouble.

   A kind-hearted old Christian gentleman by the name of Abel Gibson moved from
near Mooresville, Morgan County, this State, to Adams Township, this county, and
learned of the history of the Rhoads family, and afterward, when making a visit
back to his former home in Morgan County, stopped over night on his way with an
acquaintance, near Bridgport, by the name of Merritt, and to this man he
innocently related the story of the Rhoads family up to that date. This man
Merritt afterward moved to Missouri and, by chance, located near the Vaughn
plantation and became a neighbor of Mr. Vaughn. Vaughn related his story of the
loss of his former slaves to Mr. Merritt, and Merritt revealed the whereabouts
of that unfortunate family and came all the way with the slave hunter to Indiana
to help capture them. Merritt visited his old friend Abel Gibson and pretended
to be in the business of buying fur, and pretended to want to see John Rhoads
for the purpose of buying fur of him, and so learned the way to his house. He
called at the Rhoads cabin and, while pretending to talk business, examined the
house inside and out, and learned all the approaches, and on that very night
lead the slave-hunters to the cabin. Before that night, however, the
slave-hunters procured the proper papers from 'Squire Tyson, a Justice of the
Peace at Strawtown, which would enable him to place the Rhoads family under
arrest. So, with Merritt as a guide, and with a proper officer, the
slave-hunting party proceeded to the home of John Rhoads in the night time.
John, as usual, had securely fastened the door and had his ax standing at the
head of the bed. As stated before, the cabin was purposely built without a
window, so the only way to get in was either through the door or chimney. At
last when the forces were properly distributed around the cabin and all was
ready, Rhoads was called upon to surrender himself and family and peaceably go
with his old master back to Missouri, but this John emphatically refused to do.
John had lived here a number of years by this time and his family had increased
in size, and while preparations were going on on the outside, preparations were
also going on on the inside of the house. John and his faithful wife hastily
made a sort of breastworks out of the little furniture they had for the
protection of their children, and then John took his station at the door with
his ax and his wife at the fireplace, which had the ordinary pioneer stick
chimney. Louan kept up a fire in the fireplace to prevent them climbing down the
chimney. An assault, however, was made upon the chimney and door at the same
time. The door resisted the first assault, but the clay and stick chimney soon
gave way and was torn down. Vaughn ordered his men to enter by way of the
fireplace, but Louan stood there with a long stick of hard-burnt clay in each
hand, declaring her intention of killing the first man who undertook to enter
the cabin, and John and his trusty ax did not look at all inviting at the door.
Since all had refused to obey orders, Vaughn concluded to make the attempt
himself, but no sooner did he undertake it than Louan knocked him down with a
lump of clay which sent him sprawling quite a little distance from the chimney
opening, and still Louan stood at her post as defiant as ever, inviting the next
one to make an attempt to enter, but the next one did not care about having
Vaughn's experience. John and Louan, in the meantime, had called loudly for
help, and Owen Williams and Jesse Baker were the first to respond, but they were
halted by the slave-hunting party and officers, who were well supplied with
arms. Joseph Baker next arrived, and the men ordered him to assist them in
making the arrest, but this he refused to do, and made for the door of the cabin
which John opened for him. John and Louan had made a gallant fight, indeed, but
they were largely outnumbered and began to despair, but Joseph Baker's
appearance gave them new courage and they were again ready for the fight. Owen
Williams and Jesse Baker soon spread the news, and it was not long until people
from Deming and Westfield heard of this attempted arrest and were upon the
scene. John Rhoads' friends by this time outnumbered his enemies and they
demanded to know what Vaughn's intentions were toward the colored family, and he
said that he wanted to take them before a magistrate so that he might legally
identify them. This resorted in a sort of parley, and it was suggested that he
had worked his former slaves in a free State long enough to entitle them to
their freedom; but John's friends finally suggested that the family be taken to
Westfield, saying they would let that be done if he would agree to it. This was
agreed upon, or at least Rhoads' friends acted upon that understanding, and the
entire party—slaves, masters and all —were taken to the home of Martin Anthony
for breakfast. After procuring a team and wagon the Rhoads family was loaded
into the wagon and a start was made for Westfield, as the friends of Rhoads
supposed, the friends of the family remaining with the party. But Vaughn was
determined that the wagon should be driven toward Noblesville, and threatened to
shoot any man who attempted to drive toward Westfield with the Rhoads family.
This place of parley was at the cross roads near what is known as No. 1 school
house in Washington Township. At that place the Lafayette diagonal road leading
toward Noblesvllle was crossed by another diagonal road, leading in a
southwesternly direction toward Westfield. When the Missourian made his threat a
man by the name of Emsley Wade said, "Drive on, I'll catch the shot," and at the
same time held out his hands as though he was in the act of trying to catch a
ball. Vaughn and his men had placed themselves in front of the team, but a young
man by the name of Daniel F. Jones, then of Westfield, sprang into the wagon,
seized the reins, which the former driver only too gladly gave up, ordered the
men to get out of the way, told them to shoot if they dared, gave the spirited
horses a sharp cut with the whip and turned toward Westfield. The horses sprang
forward so suddenly that the tongue of the wagon struck the horse of one of the
officers, hurling him out of the road and at the same time disarmed him. Jones
started toward Westfield in a lively trot and had to drive near the old "Dismal
Swamp" that all the old settlers in this part of the country know about. Jones
looked steadily ahead, attending strictly to his driving, and while doing so his
passengers "spilled out through the cracks of the wagon bed," and Jones drove on
to Westfield with his empty wagon. Vaughn and his party, seeing that they were
outgeneraled as well as out numbered, turned toward Noblesville soon after Jones
had distanced them in his drive toward Westfield. Vaughn employed lawyers and
began suit against those who had assisted in the escape of his former slaves. A
long, protracted trial followed (a change of venue having been taken to Marion
County), which resulted in a finding that John Rhoads and family, having been
worked in a free State for a period of six months and over, were entitled to
their freedom. This trial cost the defendants about $600.00 in attorney's fees
and much loss of time, but they had saved this poor colored family from
separation one from the other and from being again doomed to the condition of
slavery.

   The first night after John Rhoads and family had "spilled" out of the wagon,
they were taken to a haystack, belonging to Robert Tomlinson, where they
remained till morning. Early the next morning Riley Moon brought them across the
"Dismal Swamp," wet as they could be, to the home of _____ Lindley, where they
were provided with food and dry clothing. They were then concealed in a large
piece of timber near the Lindley home, for the day, and at night brought to the
house again, where they were provided with a warm meal. They remained concealed
in woods and the "swamp" until it was safe for them to emerge again from hiding,
and after the trial they settled on a piece of land in the northern part of the
county belonging to _______ Lindley, where John resumed his old occupation of
doing good days' work. There he lived, undisturbed as to slavery, until death
claimed him and his brave and faithful Louan for his own.

The Case of Eli Terry.

   In 1841 James Carter, then living near White River, between the north line of
Marion County and Broad Ripple, employed a free negro by the name of Eli Terry
who also lived near Broad Ripple, to drive a team to Missouri and to do other
work thereafter. The term of service was one year. Preparations were at once
begun and soon completed for the journey. Nothing of note occurred on the way to
Missouri. They arrived at what Terry supposed to be their destination. After a
short stay in Missouri Carter announced to Terry that he was ready to return to
Indiana. Carter had with him one son. Agreeable to contract, Terry was paid by
Carter turning over a horse, saddle and bridle. Without further notice of the
time of starting back, Terry was called up one night to make ready for the
journey. So Carter, his son and the negro started from a wilderness part of
Missouri for Indiana, as the negro supposed, and as Carter had promised. After
traveling several days the negro said to Carter that he did not believe they
were going in the right direction. Carter said that he knew it, but said he
wished to go to the Arkansas River, where he had a brother living that he wanted
to see on his way back, and when they got there they would sell their horses and
then go by water, as it was much the easier way of traveling. Accordingly, when
they got there Carter pretended that his brother had removed to Red River in the
State of Texas, and that there was great necessity for his seeing his brother.
They must therefore go to Red River, which they did by going through the Choctaw
Nation of Indians. When they arrived at the boundary line of Texas Carter told
the negro that it was contrary to the laws of Texas for a free colored man to
remain there, as he was subject to be taken up and sold, consequently the negro
must acknowledge Carter as his master. Clarksville is sixteen miles from Red
River, which is the dividing line between Texas and the Choctaw Nation. All
things being arranged to Carters satisfaction, they went within two miles of
Clarksville and put up. The negro was left there, while Carter and his son would
go to town, transact their business, then return and proceed on their journey
home by Red River. They went to Clarksville, where Carter changed his name,
calling himself Brewer, and then sold the negro to a man by the name of West for
$600.00, one-half in money, West giving his note for the other half. The note
was drawn in the name of Brewer and was then traded to a man by the name of Reed
for a tract of land. The land was then sold for cash. Carter and his son
returned in the night to where they had left the negro, took all the horses and
other property and left the next day. West claimed the negro as his property.
Then for the first time the negro saw into the trick. Terry asserted that he was
a free negro, but this availed nothing and he was carried at once into a state
of bondage. Terry was in bondage about eight years before his people in Indiana
knew what had become of him. When they learned that Eli was in Texas and in
slavery an appeal was made and plan arranged for his rescue. This appeal was met
by the Friends in Hamilton County, mainly from Washington Township, with liberal
donations of cash. Thomas W. Council was selected and placed in charge of the
expedition to Texas for the liberation of Terry. Paris Harrison, of Hamilton
County, and a Mr. Ryman, of Lawrenceburg, were selected by Mr. Council as
witnesses to prove that Terry was a free man. Harrison was selected for another
reason; he was a small man, but his courage and fighting qualities had been
tested and found good. It was expected there would be plenty of fighting to do
before Terry could be taken out of Texas. On the 9th day of December, 1849, Mr.
Council, accompanied by Mr. Harrison, left home for Indianapolis. On the next
morning they left Indianapolis for Madison, Ind., via Madison & Indianapolis
Railway. Arriving at Madison, they proceeded to Lawrenceburg, where they were
met by Mr. Ryman. A discussion arose as to how Mr. Council and his men should
equip themselves for the journey. Several citizens joined in the discussion, the
majority of whom favored arming the parties with revolvers and bowie knives.
Council, however, decided to go unarmed. It is proper to say that the Friend
Quakers came forward with most of the funds necessary to defray the expenses of
the expedition from Lawrenceburg. The party proceeded by boat to Cincinnati,
where they took passage for New Orleans. Their first object was to procure
passage up Red River. The party secured passage on a boat bound for Shrevesport.
When they arrived at Shrevesport they learned that it was 500 miles to
Clarksville. Finally they secured passage on a small boat to a town called
Jefferson. Here the party hired horses and went to Sulphur Fork. Crossing
Sulphur Fork, the party pushed on in the direction of Clarksville. Coming to a
house about two miles from Clarksville, the party halted and stayed all night.
The next morning they went into Clarksville. The party succeeded in making two
good friends from among the best citizens in the place, through whom they
learned that Terry was in that vicinity. The man West who had bought the note
from Carter had refused to pay it. He was sued on the note and had kept it in
court up to that time. When Council and his party came on the stage West had
sold the negro to a man by the name of Chatfield. He was on the eve of starting
to New Orleans to sell Terry. Council and his party arrived at Clarksville on
Sunday, and early on the following morning they got out a writ for the release
of Terry and put it into the hands of the sheriff, who in a short time had Terry
in custody. This was done before the affair became public, but as soon as the
negro was taken in charge by the sheriff the news spread rapidly. It had been
appointed that the sheriff should take the negro to the office of Lawyer
Morrell. Before the sheriff could get there the house was crowded. This was a
moment of awful suspense and anxiety for Council and his party. On one hand
stood a crowd who had often put the law at defiance, and on the other hand stood
the law. If the law prevailed Council and his party were safe, but if the mob
prevailed they were gone. The judge seemed to be a man of great determination
and his appearance gave him the ferocity of a beast, with no well defined marks
of humanity. The judge interrogated the negro by asking him if there was any one
in the room with whom he had ever been acquainted in Indiana. The negro cast a
wild glance around the room. At length his gaze fell on Harrison. He suddenly
cried out, "There is Mr. Harrison, he knows I am a free man." At this the
enemies of the party looked vengeance. The judge continued to ask questions in
reference to things in Indiana, all of which he answered satisfactorily. A very
shrewd lawyer present undertook to defend the case for West, who was absent.
This lawyer made some heavy threats, which caused things to look squally for a
time. The judge at this stage postponed further hearing until West returned. The
negro was turned over to the sheriff. Council and his party escaped without
violence further than an attempt to intimidate the party if possible by pointing
out a tree, which stood in the town, upon which the mob had already hanged six
men. It was nine days before West returned. Council and his friends were in
constant danger of a visit from the mob, but they were brave frontiersmen and
knew no fear. On West's return the judge was prevailed upon to take the case up
again. The crowd came together again, threatening destruction to everything
coming in its way. The witnesses were examined and cross-examined beyond
reasonable evidence. After all the evidence had been given in the lawyers made
long speeches, after which the judge promptly decided that Terry was a free man.
At this the opposing party were thrown into a great rage and swore they would
appeal the case. Council notified them that he was prepared for that, and if
they did they should pay for every day's work Terry had done, and for every lick
he had received, but if they would let the matter drop there Terry would sign a
statement releasing them from all action or cause of action against them. This
proposition was accepted and the negro was turned over to Council and his party.
Terry was fully identified by Harrison, who was ready to fight, if necessary, in
defense of Terry. Council and party now turned their faces homeward, taking the
negro with them. As long as they were on Texas soil they were liable to attack.
Their journey home was uneventful. Arriving at home, the only duty to perform
was to restore Terry to his family and friends.

An Unusual Prize Fight.

   In 1845 Jacob Dye caught three cub bears near the Redman school house on the
Patrick Sullivan farm. He took the young bears home and undertook to tame them.
He succeeded tolerably well with two of them, but the other one refused to be
comforted and longed for his freedom, but Dye kept him chained. When this bear
was three years old Dye offered to bet $300.00 that the bear could whip fifty of
the best dogs in the neighborhood. The bet was taken. The time and place for the
fight were fixed at Dye's mill in March, 1848. At the appointed time and place
Mr. Dye was on hand with his bear, and so were the farmers. Some of them were
from Hamilton and some from Boone County. The first half of the day was consumed
in procuring a barrel of whisky and preliminary arrangements for the fight. The
whisky was purchased with subscription money raised on that morning for that
purpose. This was not much of a task, as there were three or four hundred
persons present. The barrel was taken to the old mill, turned on end and the
head knocked out. A board was laid across the head and tin cups placed thereon.
Boarding was arranged for those who intended to stay until the fight was over.

   The fight was to be to a finish; the bear to be killed by the dogs or the
dogs to be killed by the bear, unless one side or the other should choose before
the fight ended to forfeit the money staked and end the fight.

   This being all arranged, the ground was selected where the fight was to take
place. Bruin was brought out and chained to a small tree. The dogs were
marshaled in array by their several owners, and all appeared ready and anxious
for the fray.

   When night came quite a number of persons who had arranged to stay over night
assembled at the mill and played cards, mostly for fun, but in some cases for
the filthy lucre; and as usual, there were quarrels over the whisky and cards.
Mr. Brock and Mr. Byrkett, I remember, who were playing cards for money, had a
severe quarrel and threatened a fight, the friends of each taking sides; but
this blew over and the crowd dispersed for the night.

   The next morning most of the crowd were dry and repaired to the old mill,
and, to quench their thirst, visited the whisky barrel. Brock and Byrkett soon
renewed their quarrel of the night before and determined to settle their dispute
by a fist fight. A ring was formed and the friends of each prepared to see fair
play. The battle began. Both were adepts in the art and both were powerful. The
battle was therefore a savage one, but like all battles, it came to an end. Then
all parties repaired to the spot where the bear was chained and the preliminary
arrangements for the fight were made. By this time it was noon. The arrangement
was for five of the best dogs to be turned into the ring at one time. The
selection was made and each dog was held by the owner, awaiting the word "go."

   One of the best of this lot of dogs belonged to George Aston, a notorious
bully, and the next best dog belonged to a quiet farmer by the name of Norris.
When the-word "go" was given these two dogs, instead of attacking the bear,
engaged each other in battle, which soon became terrible, and which finally
provoked a quarrel between the owners. This dog fight made it an easy matter for
the bear in the first round. Result: Two dogs killed by the bear and one
mortally wounded, and two disabled by fighting each other. The ropes were again
tightened and the second batch of dogs awaited the signal. For some time the
result of the second round was in doubt, but Bruin concluded to try the
squeezing process. The bear picked up one of the largest dogs and without
difficulty completely demolished him. This scared the other dogs and made the
victory easy for the bear. This process was repeated until the close of the
fifth round. When the call for the sixth round was made not an owner could be
found who would let his dog go into the ring. The fight was therefore at an end
and the bear was the winner.

   This day wound up with a terrible fist fight between Aston and Norris. Aston,
as I said, was a great bully, while Norris was a quiet farmer. Aston crowded
Norris, while Norris avoided and feared him. Finally, Aston cornered Norris, and
the battle began in earnest. Norris, when he got fairly into the fight, fought
for life, and Aston fought with full confidence in himself. But he had tackled
the wrong man and he received a terrible beating. This closed the second day's
performance, and at night card playing and drinking were in order, but before
the crowd separated arrangements were made with Mr. Dye for an old-fashioned
shooting match for the bear the next day with six prizes. The writer hereof had
the pleasure of eating a part of one of the hams of the bear.

Flood, Fire and Storm.

   In January, 1847, occurred the most destructive flood since the year 1828.
All the bottom lands along the river were covered with water and driftwood;
fences were washed away; grain that had remained in the bottom fields in
cultivation was washed away by the water; shocks of corn and fodder, securely
tied as it had been left in the fall before, were frequently seen floating down
the river. I remember seing [sic] a pig on one of these shocks floating past
Noblesville. It was eating corn, apparently as unconcerned as it would have been
in the barn lot at home. On another shock was a chicken floating quietly down
stream. The mill dam across the river where Clare is now situate washed out.
Also the mill which stood at that place was washed away. The part of the mill
fixtures called the "hoppers" floated down the river. The water on this occasion
came over the bank at the west end of Conner Street in Noblesville and flowed
south through the old canal. A part of the old cemetery was covered by the water.

   The fall season of 1841 was very dry. Terrible fires, burning timber, fences,
grain and the like, prevailed all over the county, occasioning great pecuniary
loss to the owners of the same.

   During the summer of 1848 a heavy wind and rain storm prevailed throughout
the county, doing great damage to crops. The flood and fires of 1847 and the
rain and storms of 1848 caused so much damage and loss that a large number of
the citizens of the county appealed for and were granted a new assessment and a
reduction of their taxes assessed the previous year.

Old Settlers' Meetings.

   An Old Settlers' Society has been in existence for many years in this county.
I am not advised as to the time and place of holding the first meeting, or who
was instrumental in its consummation. The object, however, was a laudable one
and deserved the consideration, not only of the pioneer fathers and mothers
themselves, but the generation coming after them. All should have respect for
the memories of the past and the participants in the various processes whereby
the mighty changes have been wrought in this beautiful county of ours,
manifested by a comparison of the same surroundings of three-fourths of a
century ago, with the immediate present. It is only by cultivating inquiry
concerning the numerous incidents of real life stored in the minds of the
pioneer period and by them in some manner communicated, that those valuable
mementoes of the past can be preserved from oblivion.

   But little interest was in the beginning manifested in these meetings other
than the old settlers themselves, but as time passed the interest in the
meetings increased until they became very popular, so that each year they were
held. People came from all parts of this county and from other counties as well
to attend them. This is as it should be, and I predict that this interest will
not cease, even when the last pioneer has been laid in his grave.

Agricultural Society.

   Prior to the 22d day of January, 1829, the Legislature of this State passed
an act recommending the formation of societies as a means of enlarging the area
of agricultural operation, and securing the better modes of culture. These
statutory regulations received the approval of the Governor on the 22d day of
January, 1829. Among other things these regulations provided that the several
boards of commissioners in this State should give notice that the people of
their county would meet at a time and place mentioned in the notice to arrange
for the organization of such societies. The Board of Commissioners gave such
notice about the year 1831. I have not been able to find from the records that
any such meeting was ever held, or that any such steps were ever taken with a
view to such organization. Little, if anything, was done to advance the
agricultural interests of the county until after the passage of an act which was
approved February 17, 1852. Under this latter law, however, the farmers of
Hamilton County, some time in the year 1855, organized the Hamilton County
Agricultural Society. In their report to the State Society in 1856 it is shown
that at a regular meeting of the society, held on the 14th of April, 1856, the
following persons were elected as officers: Dr. T. T. Butler, president; Samuel
Collip and John Burk, vice-presidents; D. C. Chipman, secretary; H. W. Clark,
treasurer; E. B. Cole, librarian; with nine directors, one for each township.
The outlay and expenditures of 1855 were so considerable that the society
concluded to have no fair during the year 1856. In 1857, becoming discouraged
from the want of a permanently inclosed fair ground, and from other causes, the
society again failed to hold their annual fair. Taking courage again in the
spring of 1858, some of the more faithful friends of agricultural inprovements
met and elected new officers and a board of directors, who went vigorously to
work and in due time arranged for holding a fair, which, notwithstanding the
adverse circumstances impending, was sufficiently successful to give
encouragement to the society in the future. After a transitory existence,
however, in which there was a want of interest and a want of the practical
knowledge necessary to maintain a healthy organic movement promotive of success,
the society disbanded for a season, to be reorganized under more favorable
auspices. This was the last meeting of this society. A county fair was held,
however, on ground owned by D. R. Brown, adjoining the city of Noblesville, for
a few years, but was finally discontinued.

Early Election Methods.

   In the year 1838 Francis B. Cogswell and Ira Kingsberry were opposing
candidates for Representative in this county. Cogswell lived in Noblesville on
the north side of the square and was in the mercantile business. Kingsberry
lived near Strawtown. Cogswell was a Democrat and Kingsberry was a Whig.
Election day came and the friends of the candidates were at the voting places
early. During the forenoon, however, Cogswell and his friends were very
confident that he would be elected. About noon, however, Cogswell's friends
discovered that Kingsberry was getting more votes than Cogswell, and that
something must be done. The situation was reported to Cogswell, who immediately
secured the services of two friends, who, after properly disguising themselves,
procured a barrel of whisky. This they rolled out into the street in front of
the Cogswell house. They then set the barrel on one end and with an axe knocked
the head out of the other end. They then secured two or three tin cups and
announced that any voter who would thereafter vote for Cogswell could have all
the whisky he wanted to drink. This action on the part of Cogswell's friends
turned the vote to Cogswell. A large majority of the votes cast in the county
were at the time cast at Noblesville and Strawtown, so that when the vote of
Noblesville and Strawtown was counted and put together it was known who was
elected. Before dark that evening the return of the Strawtown vote was made and
it was learned that Cogswell was elected. When this announcement was made
Cogswell's friends threw off the mask and made public the manner in which they
had won. This announcement was the signal for trouble. The first brick court
house had been finished only a little over a year and there were plenty of
stones and brickbats to be found on the square. Kingsberry's friends armed
themselves with stones and brickbats and when Cogswell appeared upon the street
soon after he was attacked by them. Cogswell and his friends took refuge in his
house and store until they could procure stones and other missiles. When this
was accomplished they ventured into the street. They were met by the Kingsberry
men and a battle with stones and clubs ensued. The Cogswell men retreated to the
house, then the house was attacked. The windows and doors were broken. The
Kingsberry party entered the house, but Cogswell and the men who had given out
the whisky had in some manner escaped and could not be found, and as the
Kingsberry men had no cause for complaint against any one else, the fight came
to an end, but the night was far spent before the streets were clear of the
rioters.

Collecting a Debt.

   About the year 1832 James Shirts was serving an apprenticeship with F. B.
Cogswell to the farmers trade. By custom he was entitled to all the dog skins
and ground hog skins when tanned. A dog skin was tanned for a lad from the
country about James's age and size. The country lad, when the skin was ready to
deliver, received it on his promise to pay for it in a given time. When the time
was up James called on the lad for his money, but was put off for a time. Again
demand was made and further time asked. This proceeding was continued from time
to time until James became tired of it. So meeting the lad in Noblesville one
day, he demanded his pay. Payment was not made, so James informed the country
lad that he must pay then and there or take a thrashing. The lad said that was a
game two could play at. They prepared for the fight and went at it. The fight
was an even one for quite a while, with odds rather against James. By this time
several persons had come upon the scene, and as was the custom, there was to be
no interference until one or the other said enough. James finally succeeded in
getting one of the lad's ears in his mouth and chewed it vigorously. This was
too much for the lad, so he gave the word enough. James's teeth, however, had
become set, and had to be pried apart before the country lad could be released.
After the fight was over James, who was about thirteen years old, walked into a
justice's office and, addressing him, said: "'Squire, I tanned a dog skin for
(naming him) and he refuses to pay me. I have now tanned his hide and I want to
pay the bill." The crowd had followed him to the justice's office. The speech
was so novel and delivered with so much earnestness that the justice was taken
by surprise. He said: "In view of the provocation and the youth of the offenders
the said James will be permitted to go hence without bail." It was customary in
those days to settle old scores in this way, but not debts, so the people looked
upon it as a natural result of a quarrel. The country lad afterward became a
good business man.

Paying the Costs.

   About the time of the removal of the first court house to the square a fight
between two men occurred in Noblesville. One of them was arrested on the charge
of assault and battery and was taken before a justice of the peace. There was a
large number of witnesses, so the justice held the trial in the court house.
After hearing all the evidence and arguments of the attorneys the justice
directed the constable to lock all the doors leading from the court room. When
this was done the justice delivered an opinion. He said that it appeared from
the evidence that the parties who engaged in the fight differed in a
conversation between them upon some matter not made clear to the court; that
they had fought an honorable battle and that there was doubt in the mind of the
court as to which of the men was the aggressor; that the prisoner was entitled
to the benefit of this doubt. The court finds that the justice and the constable
have done all the work in this matter and that the audience has had all the fun.
It is therefore ordered that the audience pay the costs of this trial and that
they remain in the court room until the costs are paid. The joke was such a good
one that the costs were then and there paid and court adjourned.

Capt. Howe's Cabin.

   About the year 1833 Capt. Howe came to Noblesville. Soon thereafter he
purchased the eighty acres of land north of the Noblesville and Westfield pike
on the east bank of Cicero Creek. Soon after that he married one of Daniel
Gunion's daughters. There was no house on the land purchased, so he hired a man
to cut and haul logs for a cabin. After the logs were hauled upon the ground the
Captain invited the neighbors to come in and help him raise his cabin. On the
day fixed for the raising the neighbors came and as was their custom, they
appointed a foreman to give orders. This did not suit the Captain, who claimed
to have commanded a vessel of some kind, so he mounted a nearby stump and
proposed to give orders himself. It soon appeared that Howe knew nothing about
raising cabins and his orders could not be obeyed. He persisted in giving orders
and became so annoying that the settlers caught him and tied his hands behind
him and then tied him to a tree. The Captain swore like a sailor. The settlers
continued their work, finished the cabin, released Howe and departed for their
homes. Dinner had been served and Howe had been allowed to eat, but was bound
again. The Captain afterward said they served him right. Thereafter they were
all good friends. The Captain was at all times ready to assist them in return
for what they had done for him.

Domestic and Social Enjoyments.

   The pioneers, their wives and children had but little time to waste in
amusements, yet they had many ways in which to enjoy themselves, some of which
would not perhaps be considered enjoyment now. The husband and father enjoyed
the friendship of his neighbors; he enjoyed his tramp in the woods with his gun
on his shoulder and his dogs at his heels in pursuit of game; he enjoyed a visit
to his traps; he enjoyed his advance in improvements; above all he enjoyed his
quiet evenings at home, where he could smoke his pipe in peace and listen to the
hum of the spinning wheel run by his wife or daughter. The wife was perhaps
without much enjoyment except as she enjoyed looking after her children. True,
she enjoyed the religious services held at some point in each neighborhood; the
visits made to her by her neighbors, and those visits made by her in return; the
visits of the pack peddler, through whom she received all the news; she enjoyed
the quilting bees given by the women. The young ladies enjoyed themselves as all
young ladies in all ages have done, by accepting what there was in store for
them and by being content therewith. There were young men in those days as well
as now, so the young ladies endeavored to secure the best young men for partners
at the dance, to attend her to church, to accompany her home from the quilting
bees, to take them to the sugar camp, where the best wax was made, to the
pumpkin peeling, and finally to secure the best young man in the neighbor-hood
for a husband. The young man had a wider range than any of the parties named in
which to seek amusement. They enjoyed all of the sports entered into by the
father and many others. They had their dogs and guns and were permitted to
retain the profits of the chase; they also had their steel traps and the old
pole traps for 'coons. It was a real pleasure to them when upon visits made to
these traps they found a 'coon or mink imprisoned therein. Then there was the
old swimming hole with the old historic log reaching from the shore out into the
water, whereon the boys could make a short run and from which they could leap
far out into the stream; then the dive; then the swim backward and forward, up
stream and down; then the kicking and splashing of the water. By these means the
young men were about as near heaven as they wanted to be. Next we find them
gathering up the young ladies, and in a body, at the proper season of the year,
they march to the sugar camp, where arrangements had been made for the
old-fashioned wax party; then the wood chopping and quilting bees, and after
that the social party; next is the husking bee and pumpkin peeling, which is the
most exciting of all their amusements. The corn was taken from the stalk with
husks on the ear, then hauled and placed in a pen near the corn crib. The
pumpkins were gathered in a heap in the cabin where the cutting was to take
place. The young ladies were invited to cut the pumpkins into rings, peel them
and hang them on poles suspended from the joists by strings or pieces of bark.
The young men were invited to husk the corn and place it in the crib. At the
corn pile there was at the beginning great excitement on account of the fact
that the first young man finding and husking the first ear of red corn was, by
custom, entitled to a kiss from any young lady at the pumpkin peeling. This kiss
was not refused by the young lady selected.

Hauling Away Surplus.

   After the introduction of fanning mills in this county and when the farmers
began to raise a surplus of wheat, they found they had no market for it short of
Cincinnati, Lawrenceburg or Lafayette. The roads were so poor that the farmers,
when going to any of these markets would get three or four teams together. They
loaded twenty bushels of wheat in each wagon, then added feed for the horses and
provisions for the driver sufficient for the round trip. In the event that any
of the wagons stuck in the mud the other teams were near by to give them aid.
From four to five days were consumed in getting to market. There they received
anywhere from 37 1/2 to 40 cents per bushel for their wheat. This was exchanged
for a barrel of salt at $6.00 and a half-side of Spanish sole leather, usually
costing $2.00. The load of wheat at 40 cents per bushel brought them $8.00.
Three days were usually consumed in making the return trip. The settler received
for his seven or eight days and his twenty bushels of wheat $8.00.

   From the year 1835 to 1840 the first settlers produced a surplus of hogs and
cattle. In the fall season the merchants bought the surplus in hogs, bunched
them together and drove them to Cincinnati and sold them. They paid from $1.50
to $1.75 per hundredweight gross.

   A trip to Cincinnati was made by me during my minority. I will describe it.
We left Noblesville about the 3d day of December, with ten hands and three
teams. For two or three days we had fair weather and got along fairly well. It
then began to rain and the roads soon became muddy. Some of the hogs traveled
faster than others, so the hogs were divided into lots. The tired hogs would be
placed in the wagons and hauled to the stopping place for the night. These tired
hogs were lifted out of the mud and placed in the wagons by the hands in charge
of the hindmost lot. After the rain set in these men would be at night wet to
the skin. The men were kept on the road until dark and sometimes later. It
frequently happened that after turning in at night the men were required to
gather corn from the fields to feed the hogs that night, and the morning after.
The hogs were usually fed about 4 o'clock in the morning and turned into the
road at daylight. This process was continued from day to day until Cincinnati
was reached, then the hands were turned loose with money enough to take them
home. From twenty-one to twenty-two days were consumed in the trip. We wore the
same suit of clothes all the time. At night we would dry them and the next
morning rub the mud off and put them on. For my service I received 18 cents per
day and board. Cattle were bought at a certain price per head by feeders. They
were then fed, bunched up and driven to market and sold. The merchants,
generally speaking, bought goods in the spring and fall of the year at
Cincinnati. The merchant traveled to the city on horseback, made his purchases
and returned the same way. Men with four-horse teams were hired to haul these
goods from Cincinnati. Watt Murphy, of Strawtown; Abraham Williams, of Delaware
Township, and Gardner Davis, of Noblesville, did this hauling, or most of it,
for a number of years. They were generally loaded going out with ginseng,
beeswax, furs and wheat. It usually required fourteen days to make a round trip
of this kind.


   By this time sawmills had been erected on almost all of the streams in the
neighborhoods first settled. Mechanics of all grades were constantly coming in
so that one by one the pioneer cabins began to go and substantial frame
buildings went up in their stead. In some instances brick buildings took the
places made vacant by the removal of the cabins.

   The old wooden mould board was discarded about this time and the metal one
substituted, dispensing; with the wooden paddle which had before that time hung
on one handle of the stock ready for instant use.

Femsle Courage.

   The heroism of the women of the pioneer days was manifested in more ways than
one. A circumstance that occurred in about the year 1828, in Noblesville, will
serve as an illustration. A hired girl was left alone with a small boy in a
house immediately opposite a store. The family remained away from home until
dark. This fact was known to the proprietor of the store, and he concluded to
have some fun by scaring the girl. He had in his store false faces for sale. So
about dark he rigged up one of these false faces, lighted it up with phosphorus,
passed from his store to the rear of the house, then around the end of the house
to the front door of the room where the girl was. It so happened that the girl
was scrubbing the floor with an old-fashioned split broom. This broom, as a
weapon, was equal to a small maul. Instead of being scared, as the storekeeper
expected, the girl drew a bead on the false face and struck the man fairly in
the face with the scrub broom, knocking him down. He regained his feet and left
the premises in haste. He never mentioned the incident, but the girl did.

The Pack Peddler.

   As far back in our history as the Revolutionary War, we hear of the "pack
peddler." Among the most valuable spies of that time was a person known to Gen.
Washington and upon whom he relied for secret information, and this man was a
pack peddler. He went among the people carrying his pack filled with such goods
and trinkets as would please the people. He visited the homes of the Tories, as
well as those of the colonists and displayed his wares with as much earnestness
to one as he would to the other. He did a fair business, it is true, but his
real object was to gather information for General Washington. He boldly entered
the lines of the British and dispensed his wares to the soldiers, but all the
time he was treasuring in his memory all that he saw and heard. He was, to all
appearances, neutral and never at any time manifested any interest in anything
he heard or saw. Then he would have a secret meeting with Washington.

   After the war was over and the army of pioneers advanced into the wilderness
to make settlements the pack peddler followed them with his pack upon his back,
visiting from one settlement to another. He was always a welcome visitor in
those early days for two very good reasons. He generally carried goods of light
weight, but at the same time indispensable to the families of the pioneers.
Besides this he carried the news from one neighborhood to another. Communication
between settlements ten to fifteen miles apart was quite different then from
what it is in this day. So the pack peddler was a news gatherer and a news
dispenser as well. Families who had been formerly acquainted with each other
would not hear from each other for months at a time, perhaps, except through
these welcome visitors. If he visited the settlement at Horse Shoe Prairie and
had passed through the one at Strawtown, he was presumed to know all that had
happened recently in the latter settlement. If there had been a marriage, a
death or a birth since his last visit, the pioneers would learn the fact as well
as the details from the pack peddler, and the same was true in reference to all
other items of news. To us, at this day, this seems to be a small matter, but
not so to the pioneer mother who had a married daughter or son in some one of
these other settlements. Many of these pack peddlers were very honorable men,
who paved their way to good business and wealth. At the same time they were very
useful as a part of pioneer life.

The Corn Thief.

   In 1832-3 taverns so called were numerous on the leading highways, and the
business was not, by any means, a bad business. A and B lived upon one of these
highways about one and a half miles apart, each of them keeping tavern. This was
indicated to the traveling public by some kind of a rude sign board stuck up
about their premises. Sometimes considerable rivalry mixed with some jealousy
existed between the two houses, and it is safe to say the best of feeling did
not at all times exist between the proprietors thereof. About half way between
these two houses lived C, who was friendly to A and B, but was thoroughly
honest, despising a man who would do little, mean things, and hating petty
thieves. Neighbor A, as he believed, was losing corn from his crib in small
quantities at a time, and as that commodity was scarce, and for that reason,
among others, was precious to the tavern keeper, A was very much annoyed by the
discovery; finally he made the situation known to Neighbor C, informing him at
the same time that he suspected Neighbor B. Neighbor C is all attention now,
making many inquiries. Finally he went to A and said, "Have you any hickory
rails on your place?" A replied that he had, then C said, "Well, I can tell you
what to do. Saw a few blocks from the end of a rail, split them into pins very
fine, then dress them down, sharpening them at both ends, then break up a lot of
your corn, one ear at a time, insert one of
     
HAMILTON  COUNTY, IND.	339
these pins into each end of the ear, then put the ear together again. Return the
corn to the crib then, placing the ears in a conspicuous place, and if you miss
any of it let me know at once and I will assist you in catching the thief." A
did as he was directed. On the following morning he went to the crib before
daylight for the purpose of making observations. He carried an old tin lantern
and when he opened the door he found that his corn was gone. He hastened to the
house of Neighbor C and informed him of the fact and together they went to a
grove near the stable of B to await developments. About daylight B came to his
stable apprehending no danger of detection, proceeded to feed his horses, and
immediately left for his house. Scarcely had he entered when A and C left their
hiding place and entered the barn. They took the corn from the feed trough,
placed therein by B and quickly returned to the grove, where they found that
each ear contained one of the splinters placed there by A. Neighbor C went to
B's house and called him out, telling him that he wanted to see him at the
stable. They started in that direction, but C led the way past the stable to the
grove, where A was waiting with the corn. A at once accused B of stealing his
corn and produced the proofs so conclusive that B confessed and begged for
mercy. He was told by A and C that they had no desire to prosecute him; that if
he would pledge them then and there to live an honorable life and steal no more
the secret should be kept. He readily made the promise and faithfully kept it,
so far as the public knew. The story was never told outside the families
interested until after the death of Neighbor B.

Some Yankee Gratitude.

   In the early pioneer days in this country when settlements of white people
were few and frequently very far apart, and whilst soldier barracks, forts and
fortifications were still in use, the necessaries of life, including powder and
lead, were frequently transported from Government stores or trading points to
these settlements on "pack horses." The country being full of roving bands of
Indians, it frequently happened that parties engaged in this business on private
speculation or for the Government, joined their forces and traveled in company
through the forests.

   On one occasion John Emerson, together with others, was transporting supplies
in this way. The weather being warm, John, as he afterwards said, became very
thirsty. As the party was passing a spring or a place where Emerson supposed he
could get a drink, he quietly left the company to look for it. Thinking that he
would have no trouble in finding his companions, he allowed his horse to be
taken on with the others. After finding the water he started on what he supposed
was the route taken by the others, but he failed to overtake them. Soon he
discovered that he was not following the right trail and that he was lost in the
forest. He wandered aimlessly for sixteen days, during which time he did not see
a human being. At the end of that time, worn out and exhausted, he laid down to
die. An Indian, out on a hunt, discovered him in this condition. The Indian had
killed a wild turkey and had picked the feathers off of it, but was not ready to
return to camp. Telling John that he would return for him and take him to the
camp, he left the turkey there and pursued his game. On his return he found that
Emerson had eaten all the raw flesh from the wings of the turkey, which made him
very angry, but he took him to the Indian camp and fed him. Emerson then told
the Indian where his home was and that if he would take him home he would pay
him a certain sum of money for his services. The Indian, true to his supposed
friend, and trusting him for the money, consented to do so. Arriving there, to
the disgust of the Indian and the shame and disgrace of all white men, Emerson
refused to pay the Indian one cent. The Indian being alone and sixty miles from
his home and in a settlement, of white people, had no remedy, but returned to
his people to add another chapter of perfidy against that class of white people
who were base enough to give the red man evil for good. As Emerson was a Yankee,
his own people snubbed him and called him the "mean Yankee," or the "lost
Yankee." The Yankee would not in this case compare inhonesty and nobleness of
character with the red man, who cared for him and saved him.

The Pioneer Elopement.

   In the summer of 1839, a rather romantic attempt was made by Peter Beaver,
who resided at Germantown, to elope with one Susan Hudson. Peter was a widower,
having been twice married. He had been paying his respects to Miss Susan for
some time. When this became known to Miss Susan's parents, they objected to his
advances. Clandestine meetings between the pair followed, resulting in an
agreement to run away. It was arranged that on a certain day Peter was to
procure a marriage license and at night Susan was to meet him at George
Beaver's; from there they were to proceed to the residence of a Justice of the
Peace to be married. Peter supposed that he could procure a license at
Indianapolis. On the day appointed Peter went to the city and Susan prepared, as
well as she could, to carry out her part of the arrangement. The dooryard was
fenced in with pailing fence, and Susan, in order to get to George Beaver's
unobserved, pulled off a pailing remote from the doors and windows, so that she
could the more readily escape from the yard. In the meantime the family became
aware that something was wrong and set a sister of Susan's to watch her. It had
been agreed that Susan should be notified when Peter returned. To get this
information she was frequently out at the fence, and her sister was invariably
at her side. Finally the word came to Susan that Peter had returned and the time
came for her to act. Susan made her way as quietly as possible to the hole in
the fence, her sister still at her side; then Susan suddenly turned upon her
sister, like an animal at bay, and struck her with her open hand on the head.
Susan then darted through the fence and ran with all her might to George
Beaver's, where Peter was already waiting for her. Her sister soon recovered
from the blow and gave the alarm. Her father and two brothers responded to the
call and at once pursued the fleeing Susan. Beaver saw that it would not do for
her to stop at the house, so he told her to run on through to a cornfield
beyond. This she accomplished unobserved by her father and brothers. In the
meantime they surrounded the house and demanded the girl. George Beaver told
them that Susan was not in the house and that they could come in and see, which
they did. A search of the premises disclosed the fact that the girl was not
there. By this time things began to look lively. The Hudson's went to the store
of Baker & Finch and insisted that the girl had been concealed there. They
demanded permission to search the place, which was given them, but they did not
find her. Peter in the meantime put on innocent airs, dressed up in millers
clothes, procured a lantern and blanket, and started for the mill with the
avowed purpose of tending the mill that night. In the blanket, however, he had
concealed his wedding suit. By this time the curiosity of all the people in and
near the village had been fully aroused; all taking sides with one or the other
party. Two persons, somewhat noted in the neighborhood, finally took a hand. Dr.
Cunningham, one of them, took the Beaver side, and Mat Clifton the side of the
Hudsons. Mat was not long in discovering that Cunningham intended to aid Beaver
and Susan, and was just as fully determined to aid the Hudsons, so with all the
cunning and ingenuity of an Indian, which he possessed, he set to work watching
Cunningham.

   Germantown was then, and is now, on the north or west side of Fall Creek, the
dam in which the water was gathered for the mill was a short distance above. On
this dam a good canoe was always kept. On the opposite side of the creek resided
a Justice of the Peace, and this was the objective point for Peter and Susan;
here they were to be married, provided they could run the Hudson gauntlet. Dr.
Cunningham had succeeded in finding and secreting Susan; then he formed his
plan, which was to keep Hudson up all night, or nearly so, and when they
returned home for refreshments and sleep, Beaver and Susan were to be taken
across the creek in the canoe by Cunningham. This plan was made known to Peter
and Susan and they very readily entered into it. They now had nothing to do but
wait for an opportunity to steal away.

   In the meantime Mat Clifton was not idle; he had managed his cards well and
had in some way become fully aware of the Cunningham plan and laid his
accordingly. He kept up an appearance of searching until well into the after
part of the night, when, knowing just where the canoe was to land, he posted the
Hudsons with a friend or two and all became quiet. About daylight the next
morning Peter and Susan, arrayed in what they supposed were their wedding
garments, preceded by Cunningham, made their way to the canoe. All seemed to be
peaceful and everything was surely quiet. Peter and. Susan took their places in
the canoe, the doctor shoved it out into the stream and Peter pulled for the
opposite shore, feeling assured that they had outwitted the enemy. When the
canoe struck the opposite shore, Susan, having been seated in that end, was
immediatelv seized by the Hudsons. Her wrists were gently but firmly bound and
the canoe shoved out in the stream. The Hudsons were for the time being masters
of the situation. Susan was taken home and was for some time kept under
surveillance. Her parents, to cure her, as they said, sent her to a married
sister at or near Westfield. For quite a while nothing was heard of the affair.
It is fair to assume, however, that Peter and Susan either saw or heard from
each other occasionally. It appears, at least, that the matter was not fully
disposed of.

   At that time there lived in Noblesville a William Archer, engaged in peddling
clocks, and to some extent a privileged character. To him Peter applied for aid
and not in vain. Archer was the kind of man for the work and the job suited him.
He visited Susan's brother ostensibly for the purpose of selling him a clock,
and managed while there to speak to Susan in Peter's interest. The result was an
agreement to call on a certain day when Susan would be ready. Archer called on
the day agreed upon, and while he was making an effort to sell the
brother-in-law a clock, Susan, unobserved, stole out of the house and secreted
herself in the barn and near the road where the black wagon was standing. When
Archer returned to his wagon Susan jumped in. Archer quickly unfastened the
horses and dashed away. They were in Noblesville before the astonished
brother-in-law recovered from his surprise. Susan was met at Noblesville by her
lover and they were married, thus outwitting the Hudsons at last.


Additional Comments:
From:

A HISTORY OF THE FORMATION, SETTLEMENT AND DEVELOPMENT OF
HAMILTON COUNTY, INDIANA,
FROM THE YEAR 1818 TO THE CLOSE OF THE CIVIL WAR.
BY
AUGUSTUS PINCH SHIRTS.
1901.



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