May 1, 1812.

So, I missed a day.  To be fair, I had a date with a beautiful older woman –– but more on that later.  For now, let's wrap up.

Once more, from the “Greenville Journal,” Apr. 13, 1870, “PERSONAL REMINISCENCES,” by John S. Hiller:

“The next evening a company of men from Troy arrived at old fort Greenville; another company from Lexington made its appearance on the east side of Mud creek and went out and brought in the body of Rush and buried it the same evening.”  

“The families that had collected there––seven in numbers––remained there one week.  Part of the men that came to our relief stayed with us for some time, and as soon as arrangements could be made, the women and children were removed to the older settlements for safety.  The Rush families all went back to Pickaway county, the men returning as soon as possible.  My father and family went to Piqua, Miami county.  It was then near the middle of May, 1812.  After this the writer knew, personally, but little about Darke county till after General Harrison’s treaty at Greenville.  More anon.”

And that’s where the article ends.  There will be more anon as we look into the history of Darke County, but for the moment, here is where I leave you.  

April 30, 1812.

Here is Hiller's summary of events in our tale for April 30, 1812.  Once again, from the “Greenville Journal,” Apr. 13, 1870, “PERSONAL REMINISCENCES,” by John S. Hiller:

“About two o’clock in the morning we all started for the fort, as we afterward called; all got in safe about daybreak.  That day was spent fortifying the house.  The body of Rush was still left out in the woods, there not being men enough to go after it and guard the women and children.  In the evening when the alarm was given and when people were flying in the greatest consternation, Mr. Sumption, a man of some sixty years of age, without consulting any one took his gun and on foot and alone went to Troy, arriving there about sunrise.  Another man, whose name I have forgotten, the same night went to Lexington, Preble county.”

The "fort, as we afterward called [it]," or James Rush's home, naturally then takes the name "Ft. Rush" in Wilson's 1914 "History of Darke County."  Wilson also clarifies Sumption's first name as Charles.

I'm busy looking around Darke County presently, and tomorrow will run up to Michigan to speak to a wonderful lady of the age of wisdom, and from there or late tomorrow from Darke, I shall share the conclusion.

April 29, 1812.

When last we looked in on our early Darke Countians, John S. Hiller had set the scene, given us our bearings, and had us follow the unfortunate Andrew Rush to his untimely death.  Rush having not returned, his fellow settlers grow concerned and take action…

From the “Greenville Journal,” Apr. 13, 1870:

“The next day it rained all forenoon.  In the afternoon my oldest brother and Rush’s brother-in-law took a horse and went to look after him.  The boys took the trace that Rush had marked across to Greenville creek, a short distance above where Spiece’s mill now stands.” [7]

It’s worth noting you’ll find no deed for the mill in the name of Spiece; “General” Odlin Spiece (sometimes “Speice”) may have been the operator, but the mill was built on land owned by John C. Potter.

“There they found him lying on his sack of meal, murdered as above described.  The boys went on to Mr. Potter’s, who had by that time returned home.  Mr. Potter took the horse from the boys and went to alarm the people.  The boys went across to Thomas McGinnis’s on Mud creek.”  

Hiller here refers to Thomas McGinnis’ home on Mud Creek.  In the 1857 plat map, we can see property of his bordering on Greenville Creek, but not Mud Creek.  I couldn’t find a deed backing up the Mud Creek property, but it’s entirely possible that such a one might be found again among the older records at the Greenville Government Center.

“Mr. McGinnis had heard the news before the boys got there and had left.  The boys ran on to the next house and they too had gone; they ran on to the third house; there all had left and the door being partly open, my brother said he would go in and see if they were all killed.  On looking in he saw no one dead or alive.  The next was Henry Rush’s––no one there.  It was then getting dark, but they continued on to James Rush’s, where they found the flying people congregated and making preparations for defense.  But before the boys had reached there, my uncle, James Rush, had taken a horse and rode out to the West branch to see if we were all killed.  He came to Peter Rush’s first; there he found Henry Creviston who had been out hunting that day.  The three men with Peter’s wife came on down to Andrew Rush’s.  I was there staying with my aunt over night.  Soon the sad news was made known to her when we all started for our house.  There was mother, who had not walked a step for three years, and five children too small to walk.  The night was dark.  About nine o’clock the moon rose and the sky cleared off and my uncle then got on the horse he had rode out, took Peter Rush’s wife on behind him, and went back home for help to get the women and children away.  When he got there there were no men to be spared, for they expected to be attacked before daylight; but the two boys above mentioned were there and came back with two more horses and one gun.”

The Death of Andrew Rush.

Among those of us who are immersed in Darke County history, the story of the death of Andrew Rush is very familiar.  It is a fixture of all the county histories (W. H. Beers, 1880; Lewis Publishing Co., 1900; Frazer Ellis Wilson, 1914.  It also warrants a brief mention in George Wood Wolfe’s 1890, “A Pictorial Outline History of Darke County.”), and tells the story essentially the same way with the variance of an occasional detail added or omitted, but none of the histories credit the source; it is all simply presented as accepted fact.  

In Beers’ 1880 “History of Darke County,” the recounting was titled “PERSONAL REMINISCENCES,” but never attributed those reminiscences to a specific person.  In fact, what they knew (and what we know) of Rush’s death seems largely creditable to the account of one man…  

John S. Hiller (1797-1875), the son of John Hiller (1765-1828) and Catherine Rush (1770-1842), was a little over 14 years old when Andrew Rush was murdered in late April 1812, and was a first-hand eyewitness to the fallout as settlers retreated to Fort Green Ville and then east, out of concern over further retribution by the natives.  For your edification, we’ll walk through the incident according to Hiller, on the days the events are said to have occurred.

From the “Greenville Journal,” Apr. 13, 1870, “PERSONAL REMINISCENCES,” by John S. Hiller:

“As I am among the oldest citizens of Darke county now living, and thinking that some circumstances connected with the early settlement of the county might be interesting to some of your numerous readers, I propose to give them some of my recollections, if you will allow me a place in your columns.

My father, in company with Andrew and Peter Rush, emigrated from Pickaway county, Ohio, in the fall of 1811, and settled on the west branch of Greenville creek in Darke county, Ohio.  Father erected his cabin about half a mile from where I now write; Andrew Rush settled on the bank of the creek about eighty rods east, and Peter Rush one-half mile further up the creek, on the farm on which Samuel Bechtolt now lives.”

John S. Hiller was writing from his home, which after consulting real estate records, appears to have been in the same place as shown on the portion of the 1857 Darke County plat map shown below, in the southwest portion of Section 30 [1].

Sam Bechtolt’s farm was not actually his until 1871, but deed records from the Darke County Court House suggest he likely rented from John Fox until that time, ultimately buying from him a 10 acre plot in the northeast quarter of Section 29, near where today’s West Branch Greenville Creek tributary meets the main Greenville Creek [2].

Deeds for Andrew and Peter Rush’s plots were not yet found among the deed indexes at the Darke County Court House (and are more likely among older records held at the Greenville Government Center), but you can estimate for yourself their approximate placements along the creek between the two identified points above, based on Hiller’s description.

“At the last mentioned place was where the trace leading from the Prophet’s Town, called the White river trace, crossed the creek.  Here all went to work clearing up the forest preparatory for a crop of corn.  During the winter Indians were encamped all through the woods, spending much of their time in hunting.  It will be remembered that  the battle of Tippecanoe had been fought that fall (1811).  Among the Indians that were hunting in the woods was one who called himself Simon Gerty; said he had been in the battle; was lame; said he was wounded in the thigh.  All these circumstances did not alarm the people.  All were engaged in their daily avocations; some clearing; some making sugar; until about the first of April, 1812, when there began to be some talk about danger of Indians.  In the meantime there had been a man killed at Fort Recovery, who was trading with the Indians, but it was thought he had been assassinated by his partner, so it created very little excitement.  Finally, about the first of April, Andrew and Peter Rush rode out to Fort Recovery [3].  On their return they reported all quiet.”

Fort Green Ville is indicated as Greenville, of course [4].

“They passed many Indian camps and the Indians were all friendly.  This seemed to quiet the apprehensions of the people till toward the latter end of the month.  About that time, I think on the 28th of April, Andrew Rush left home to go to mill, a little mill that stood on Greenville creek, a few rods above where the Beamsville road leading from Greenville now crosses it [5].  On his return he stopped at Mr. Daniel Potter’s who was then living in one end of a double cabin, Mr. Isaac Vail occupying the other, that stood between where Moses Potter’s house now stands and the creek.” [6]

In another resource, the mill Andrew Rush left for, and is said located “a few rods above  is referred where the Beamsville road leading from Greenville now crosses [Greenville Creek],” is referred to as “Terry’s Mill.”  I couldn’t find a deed for anyone near said site with the name “Terry” as given or surname, so more than likely the land on which it was built was owned by someone else, just as “Spiece’s Mill” was on John C. Potter’s plot.

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Vail who had become somewhat uneasy for the safety of their families, had gone down to the Miami for help to remove their families, back to where they came from.  Mrs. Potter asked Mr. Rush if he was not afraid of the Indians.  He said no, at the same time putting his hand on his head and remarking that he had had his wife that morning, cut his hair so short that they could not get his scalp off.  It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when he left the house for his own home.  He had not proceeded over half a mile [7], where he was met by an Indian or a party of Indians and shot off of his horse, tomahawked and scalped.”

Almost certainly what gives this story its staying power beyond the sheer grisliness of affairs is the irony of Andrew Rush’s last recalled words; that he claimed his wife had cut his hair so short he couldn’t be scalped, little knowing how quickly thereafter he’d be proven wrong.  I suppose that’s why this one has always stuck with me anyway.  Tomorrow, we’ll pick up with the next portion of John S. Hiller’s recollections covering the following day, April 29th.

EDITOR'S NOTE:  Still getting accustomed to this format; can't reproduce images to scale I want, I'll try to resolve that in the future, but for the time being, this will have to stand as it is.

Getting Started.

Hi.  I’m John Lore, an aspiring niche-historian with particular interest in Darke County and the surrounding area during the early 18th through mid-19th centuries.  I have, for the last several years, been in pursuit of one story — a unique story — one hinted at but only glimpsed by some, one creatively liberated while incompletely researched by another, the result of all of which left me deeply curious and desirous to get down to the gritty facts, whatever they were and wherever they might be found.  

My goal is a decidedly Darke County story that spans well more than 100 years all in all, and touches on a few figures known and most unknown (but no less deserving of their place in history); a story that takes only the liberties necessary to tell the tale well, sensibly and realistically, and for the rest, hews so close to what we can establish as historical fact that it might well be used as one would a nonfiction title for reference.

It is my hope that the interest in the central figures might be strong enough to ignite interest in the secondary players, all of them just as real, human and variously blessed and plagued as any of us might be with their fair measures of gifts and flaws, happinesses and sorrows, that you might come to appreciate them, perhaps even feel inspired to learn more about them, just as the process of researching the story engaged and inspired me.

I have miles to go yet.  While the research itself is coming to an end, I have never written a novel, and am still finding my footing and my voice — probably both at the same time, resulting in the unfortunate consequence of stepping on one’s voice here and there.

But, onward.

I suppose it is high time I start this blog.  

First, some expectations:  

1.)  It will be irregular.

I mean this both as unusual in content and timing.  I’m still fighting the good fight on my aversion to routine, and insofar as a good blog requires unfailing daily entries, a good blog this will not be.  I will add to it as I can; it may acquire a feature here or there that comes to be weekly or monthly or somewhere in between, and perhaps reliably so, but for the beginning, I will expect (and you should likewise) only an unusual pattern of appearances.

2.)  It will be interesting(?)

I tend to write about things that are interesting to me; here it will be Darke County history.  If this appeals to you, so much the better; if not, I suspect it cannot be helped.  

3.)  It will be accented, where possible, with images of places, maps, documents and photographs.  

I have, over time, amassed a collection of plat books useful to my aims, and a considerable number of copies of documents and newspaper articles from which to draw for information.  Some of these are conducive to being represented here, and others are under agreement to not be used without permission from the source, but I think the things that matter I’ll be able to show you, and perhaps tell a story or two in the process.  I continue to collect assorted photos and documents from the area, and I look forward to being able to share some of those with you as well. 

You will hear from me again shortly.  In fact, I plan a handful of entries over the next couple of days, even as I’m traveling through Darke County for further research.  Maybe I’ll offer a look, too, into modern day Darke as I go.  We’ll see.

I look forward to sharing with you my findings, and hope to hear from you as time goes on.