Remembering the Great Black Swamp

The Rev. Joseph Badger described the area as "generally low and interspersed with gentle swells of excellent land, well-timbered, but between the ridges lie streams and hideous swamps of two, three, four miles in width. Stretches of mud and water from knee to belly deep to our horses extend from 8 to 10 miles."

The pioneer missionary was describing the Great Black Swamp, that immense low-lying tract of land that dominated the thirty-mile expanse between Ohio's Sandusky and Maumee Rivers.  In total, the swamp covered 1500 square miles and affected a portion of ten of Ohio's counties. So daunting was the swamp that northwest Ohio was the last place settled in all of the state.

Great Black Swamp Map

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Beech, oak, hickory, and elm trees reached more than 100 feet above the swamp's jungle-like vegetation, choked streams, and marshes.  The canopy blotted out the sunlight, making the Black Swamp a dark, depressing, and lonely place for many of those first settlers.  It was such a forbidding landscape that even the Native Americans left it to the wolves, snakes, horseflies, and the massive swarms of mosquitoes. 

More than one-third of the pioneers who settled in the Black Swamp gave up and moved on.  It took determination and endurance to remain. The Goll Woods is one place that some remnants of the swamp remain and can be experienced today. Lying a mile and one-half north of Archbold, Ohio, in German Twp., Fulton County is a 321-acre preserve that is believed to be the least disturbed woodland area in this part of the state. 

Immigrants from France, the Peter Goll family purchased 32 acres in Fulton County in 1834. Eventually, the Goll land grew to nearly 600 acres. It remained in the family for generations. The state of Ohio acquired the land from Peter Goll's great granddaughter in 1966 and dedicated it to a nature preserve in 1975. 

Goll Woods

Courtesy of ODNR

The old growth forest has some of the largest trees remaining in the state of Ohio and is truly reminiscent of the Great Black Swamp. Selective cutting only took place once - during World War I. Eighty acres of the preserve is virgin forest that the Goll family called the "Big Woods." You will see 200-to-400-year old trees; some of which have trunks four feet in diameter. There are cottonwood; sycamore; pin, bur, and white oak; pine; ash; and tulip trees. Their canopy is so dense, it still presents the eerie gloom of the Black Swamp that our ancestors felt. To learn more about the Goll Woods, go online to Goll Woods State Nature Preserve. 

Lightning and windstorms have felled come of these majestic trees just as they have for thousands of years. They lay on the swamp's floor, decomposing in the dark shade amid the native wildflowers and wood plants of ferns, lilies, violets, elderberry and raspberry bushes, and Solomon's seal. Look ever so closely and you will see  salamanders, toads, woodpeckers, an occasional wild turkey or a whitetail deer. And, always, always there are the mosquitoes.  For our ancestors, it was a hostile landscape that took everything they had.... and for many - it took their very lives.  For us, it is a natural treasure that gives us an appreciation for what our ancestors experienced in the Great Black Swamp.

  

Lower Sandusky and the U.S. Indian Factory System

Initiated in 1795 by President George Washington and later supported by Thomas Jefferson, a non-profit fur factory system was set up to undercut the influence of British traders with Indian tribes. Washington also believed America would develop better relations with the Indians and in turn reduce Army expenses necessary to protect the frontier. Washington insisted there be no fraud and goods were to be supplied to the Indians at fair prices.  

Government factories were established mostly at forts where soldiers could handle transporting goods and protect against theft and violence. In all 17 factories were created. Lower Sandusky (now Fremont) was the sole Ohio fur factory. It was located at the site of Ft. Stephenson (now the site of Birchard Public Library). It fell under the direction of the older Ft. Wayne agency whose factor was John Johnston, federal Indian Agent. (The restored Johnston Farm and Indian Agency can be visited near Piqua, Ohio). Benjamin Tupper became Lower Sandusky’s first factor, receiving $750 a year. Factors also received $200 for furnishings and $20 each year for upkeep, indicating that houses were also provided for the factors.

Hides of deer, beaver, muskrat, wildcat, bear, otter, fox, mink, and rabbit were traded for the “white man’s goods” all supplied with government funds. Deer hides far outweighed all others.

The private Hudson’s Bay Company and the American Fur Company deeply resented these government, non-profit agencies who paid higher than market prices. In fact, when there was no market at all for deer hides, agencies continued to buy them. Losses escalated with hides suffering from worm and moth damage and transportation problems from Ft. Wayne down the Maumee River. Lack of clerks caused poor baling of hides that needed to be wrapped in smoked elk or deer hides to keep out moths and worms

 

In exchange, Indians traded for beads, bullet molds, fabric, jugs, cups. mugs, tallow, beeswax, traps, muskrat spears, moccasins, drinking glasses, silver arm bands, soap, coffee, blankets, sleigh bells, guns and gun powder, lead, needles, combs and even eye glasses (requested at Lower Sandusky for “old” Indians). Nearly $10,000 of merchandise was sent to Lower Sandusky in the years between 1808 and 1811. Nearby is an 1822 Detroit broadside from the closed Chicago and Green Bay factories, listing goods typically traded.                                                                                     

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

During the War of 1812, the British and their Indian allies burned Ft. Wayne and massacred Chicago while nearly $4,000 worth of goods were seized at Lower Sandusky. As war descended, then Factor Jacob Varnum fled with others to Delaware, Ohio. The factory did survive and was eventually “restockaded.”

The arrival of Major George Croghan and his victory at Fort Stephenson during the War of 1812 ended the importance of the factory system at Lower Sandusky.

Many thought the system a success because some tribes remained loyal to America during the War of 1812. However, these were mainly philanthropists, religious reformers, and government officials. But like the Chicago agency, the bulk of sales eventually went to white settlers. Much of the trade goods were of poor quality.  Additionally, Washington officials knew little of tribal needs on the frontier. When the losses became exorbitant, the system was declared “useless.” With continued pressure from private trading companies, Congress took steps to abolish the entire program.   

                                  ****************

More about the U.S. Indian Factory System appears in an article by Royal V. Way  in the "Mississippi Valley Historical Review" and in History of the United States Indian Factory System, 1795-1822 by Ora B. Peake.

The Troubles of Charley Loo

Americans of today often struggle with the acceptance of the millions of migrants entering the United States. But native born Americans of the 19th century were no less threatened by the boatloads of immigrants who came by the millions and poured into the United States from around the world. 

They were particularly intolerant of those whose customs and rituals  were far different from their own. They responded by exerting not-so-subtle pressures on newcomers who failed to conform with what they believed was the traditional "American way of life." Those who persisted in what was  termed strange customs found themselves, at the very least, harassed, ostracized, or the but of jokes by neighbors and the local press.

And so it was in May of 1896 when a Fremont (Ohio) Daily News reporter arrived at "Chinatown," then known locally as 313 Garrison Street, the site of the Chinese laundry. He was there to investigate a disturbance that had awakened the neighborhood, and filled the "air with flying pig tails, flat irons, and Chinese swear words."

After much "pig-tail talk," the reporter learned that Charley Loo and his brother were arguing over money. To resolve the matter, the Loos sent for One Lung of Toledo. But it seems One Lung was more interested in Mrs. Loo than in settling the dispute. A "free-for-all" between One Lung and the jealous "washee-washee proprietor" broke out. The police finally gained control and "once more peace reigned supreme in Chinatown"...but not for long.

By noon the following day, the News reporter was rushing back to 313 Garrison, where the drama continued. He and Dr. Thomas found Charley with "barely a pulse and eyes protruding from the sockets." So distressed over his wife's infidelity, Charley decide to end it all by taking "enough opium to kill several ordinary  men." Despite Dr. Thomas' efforts, Charley passed away within hours. 

Struggling to understand the "Chinese chatter," the reporter and undertaker Tschumy attempted to carry out the Loo family instruction as best they could. In fact the customs they found so strange were traditional Tao burial rituals. After the widow washed the body with "buying water," she dressed Charley in his finest clothes, hat, and best sandals. She placed a coin in his mouth, a fan in one hand, a handkerchief in the other. Coins and colored paper surrounded Charley's body as it lay in Tschumy's plain, black coffin with feet toward the door.   

Arriving at Oakwood Cemetery, the Loos prepared to burn Charley's possessions. All was about to go up in smoke when Charley's brother pulled an item belonging to One Lung from the "bonfire." Nothing of the man who had destroyed the Loo marriage must be allowed to enter the "spirit land" with Charley. Ridicule began to give way to respect as the reporter attempted to help Tschumy and the Loos  make Charley's "transition" to the "spirit land."

But it seems the drama would not end! Rumors soon flew around the city that Charley's corpse had been stolen from Oakwood Cemetery. Finally, Loo's brother insisted the body be exhumed. Charley was still there. But he would not remain there forever. Thirteen years later, Loo's brother ordered Charley exhumed once more. This time his remains were bound for China on a ship commissioned by relatives to return him for burial in his homeland...May you always rest in peace Charley Loo!

                                                                                                                                  

General James B. McPherson's 17th Corps Medal

After a siege of more than six weeks, the city of Vicksburg fell on the 4^th of July 1863 to Civil War General Ulysses S. Grant’s Union forces. The honor of leading the victorious troops into the captured stronghold fell to General James B. McPherson’s 17^th Corps of the Army of the Tennessee. As commander of the Union's occupation forces at Vicksburg, McPherson, on the 2^nd of October 1863, authorized a medal to be awarded to officers and enlisted men of the 17^th Corps who displayed “gallant and distinguished service in the field.” Sometimes called the “medal of gold,” it remains among the rarest of Civil War memorabilia.

17th Corps Medal

                

Exactly how many and to whom the medal (pictured above) was awarded is unknown. One who received it was Major L. S. Willard, McPherson’s senior aide-de-camp. He and others of McPherson’s staff accompanied his body to Clyde, Ohio after he was killed during the opening rounds of the Battle of Atlanta. Three weeks later, Willard wrote his friend and comrade Lt. Augustus. C. Blizzard, also a recipient of the medal. 

Lt. A.C. Blizzard
Courtesy of
Harry Blizzard

On August 15^th, Willard wrote from Peoria, Illinois, “I am now at home waiting to see what will be done with me after accompanying the remains of our beloved commander to their last resting place…It was a very sad duty Capt. Gile, Steele, and myself had to perform. It must have been a sad and lonely Head Qtrs. the night of the 22^nd of July with the tent of our beloved General vacant and vacant forever. That Army felt that night as though a loss unrepairable had befallen them; to me the thought was fearful it seemed as though with the death of the General the Army of the Tennessee almost became extinct. His relatives in Ohio felt the loss as only Mothers and Sisters can, everyone paid the greatest respect to the remains.”

After leaving Clyde, Major Willard resigned his commission at Cincinnati and left the military. He had been with the 17^th Corps since the Battle of Shiloh, Today, other war date letters written by Willard are preserved and online at the Newberry Library in Chicago.

General McPherson's 17th Corps Army of the Tennessee
Balfour House, Vicksburg
(Lt. Blizzard standing at far right)
Courtesy of the Old Courthouse Museum

Lt. Blizzard was proud of his appointment to General McPherson's 17th Corps staff. Like Willard, he too resigned shortly after McPherson's death. He returned to Iowa where he lived a long and useful life before his death in Malcome, Iowa in 1909. His obituary mentions his being awarded "the "Medal of Gold" for gallant and distinguished service in the field. Engraved on same, Battles of Shiloh, Corinth, Raymond, Jackson, Champion Hills, and Vicksburg July 4th, 1863"

                                                                  

                                                         

Renowned Phrenologist Nelson Sizer corresponds with John Brown, Jr.

                                                                     

Guest Post by Manuscripts Intern Nate Ricks

      Nelson Sizer's letter to John Brown Jr.

March 26, 1860

John Brown Jr. Collection

 

John Brown’s 1859 raid on Harper’s Ferry, Virginia (and his subsequent execution) solidified Northern and Southern sentiments regarding slavery.  Some began to act out in their own private “attacks,” as demonstrated by a letter found in the Hayes Presidential Library & Museums' collections. 

                                                                       

John Brown Jr.

In March 1860, the noted phrenologist Nelson Sizer conducted a mildly subversive one-man campaign in Virginia. The state had been nicknamed “The Mother of Presidents” by this time for birthing seven chief executives: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, W.H. Harrison, Tyler, and Taylor.  But Sizer and other abolitionists were scornful of the role Virginia played in violently perpetuating slavery and proudly executing Brown.  He wrote to John Brown, Jr., the grieving eldest son of the martyred abolitionist:

 

“The other day I went to Washington and I walked three miles & across the Potomac bridge for the privilege of spitting on the state of Virginia.  I met a negro slave near the end of the bridge in [Virginia] & asked him if he ever heard of the [Underground Railroad], & his Eyes brightened as he replied, “Yes Massa, heap o’times.”  I said, “Some of your boys get away to a land of freedom on the [Underground Railroad], do they not[?]” He answered, “deed they do, sir.”  I call that tampering with a slave.  I did it out of contempt for the “Mother of Presidents,” and now of a race of braggarts and cowards.”

 

Such personal demonstrations became popular sentiment, leading to the election of Lincoln later that year, and the outbreak of civil war in April 1861.

 

Sizer’s letter to John Brown, Jr. is one of about 600 letters in the John Brown Jr. Collection found in the Hayes Presidential Library’s Charles E. Frohman Collection.  John Brown, Jr. settled at Put-in-Bay, Ohio, and received correspondence from many prominent abolitionists and reformers of the late 19^th Century.  Learn more about this collection: https://www.rbhayes.org/collection-items/charles-e.-frohman-collections/brown-john-jr./

 

Migrant Crisis: Then and Now

During the past two years much has been said and written about immigration at America’s southern border. Unable to house, feed, and care for the thousands entering the country, governors have bussed many to sanctuary cities. In New York City, the mayor was forced to put up migrants in police stations for lack of housing. Such a crisis isn’t new to America. During the 1890s, New York City’s police housed as many as 148,000 immigrants in their barracks each year. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, Chicago’s population increased by 54% from 1890 to 1900. City commissioners quickly constructed ramshackle tenements for the enormous wave of immigrants that poured into their cities. Thirteen-foot rooms were often occupied by as many as a dozen men. Flophouses charged 25 cents for a cot, locker, and screen. Many who could not afford that amount were forced to use a hammock for 7 cents or a spot on the floor for five. Others slept in the streets despite cold and snow. Unemployment was rampant.

Jacob Riis Photo of Tenements
Courtesy of Library of Congress

There was little or no safety net for those who were weakened by hunger and disease. Saddest of all were the orphaned children who were frequently cared for and fed by the police. What prompted the first change in these enormous slums? It was the work of Jacob Riis. An immigrant himself, Riis came to the United States from Denmark in 1870. Ten years later, he found work as a police reporter and saw, wrote about, and photographed the filth, squalor, poverty, and overcrowded slums. His book “How the Other Half Lives” threw light on the misery of New York City’s poverty-stricken, homeless immigrants. More than his words, it was his photographs of the crowded tenements that effected change. Theodore Roosevelt, then the city’s police commissioner, said “I have read your book and have come to help.” And help he did! 

Tenements were torn down and replaced with decent housing for the city’s population of which a quarter were mired in poverty. Streets were cleaned up. Reformers and missionaries opened day nurseries and schools for thousands of homeless children. “Out placing” by the Children’s Aid society began the Orphan Train Movement that found homes, some good and some ruinous, for more than 200,000 children. Nearly 8,000 were settled in Ohio. (See 2012 post "Following the Orphan Train Riders.")

Roosevelt once said he hoped that coming to the “new land would be a turning point in their lives; wished that they might find there all their dreams had painted for them; and how earnestly he, as a citizen of the great republic; welcomed them to it.” It took years of reform and constant effort to make that promise a reality.

The Croghan Congressional Gold Medal

 Nearly all Sandusky Countians know of the brave defense of Major George Croghan and his men at the Battle of Fort Stephenson during the War of 1812. The 21-year old was brevetted lieutenant colonel for his heroic actions by President Madison.

During and after the war, Congress approved several gold medals for victorious military actions. But it was not until February 1835 that legislators belatedly recognized Colonel Croghan for his defense of Fort Stephenson. In that same resolution, Congress also ordered the president to present swords to six of Croghan’s officers: Captain James Hunter, Lieutenants Cyrus Baylor and John Meek, Ensign Joseph Duncan, and the nearest male representatives of Lieutenant Benjamin Johnson and Ensign Edmund Shipp. 

Croghan Congressional Medal

West Point engineer Washington Hood, who also worked as a portrait copyist, designed the reverse of the Croghan medal. His sketch portrayed the battle scene at Fort Stephenson with three ships in the distance representing Perry's fleet.  According to the “Numismatic News” Hood’s drawing differed from other army medals in that he included the Latin phrase “Par Magna Fuit” (His Share Was Great). The obverse was reserved for a portrait of Croghan to be prepared by Moritz Furst, the Philadelphia Mint’s contract engraver.

Croghan asked his brother, then living in Pittsburgh, to provide Furst with a miniature portrait as a personal sitting was not possible. Furst used Hood’s work and the portrait to create the engraving. He received $1800 for his work. Congress appropriated another $250 to cover the cost of striking the medal, the gold, and a case.

By March of 1836, Furst had completed the medal. However, a year later the medal still remained at the mint! Prodded by an agitated former Secretary of War Lewis Cass, the mint finally shipped the medal to Washington, D. C.   At long last, the Congressional gold medal was presented to Colonel Croghan by President Andrew Jackson - the final War of 1812 medal awarded.

Croghan resigned from the U.S. Army after the War of 1812. He lived in New Orleans where he was appointed a postmaster. He later rejoined the army and in 1825 was promoted to colonel and served as one of two U.S. Army inspectors general. He fought with Zachary Taylor at Monterey in the War with Mexico. Croghan died during the cholera epidemic at New Orleans in 1849. He was originally buried in the family cemetery in Kentucky.

Colonel Croghan’s body was brought to Fremont for re-burial by Colonel Webb C. Hayes. Hayes contacted his descendants, hoping to locate the Congressional gold medal. None appeared to know of its whereabouts.

Using Furst’s original dies, the Philadelphia Mint began producing bronze copies of the medal. “Numismatic News” stated that collectors could still order them as late as 1901. Many museums, including the Hayes Library and Museums hold copies of the bronze medal. The Smithsonian has a dozen in its collection.