accoutrements were tomahawk and scalpingknife." The account was published under the caption Longevity.'

"Died, in Harrison township, Gallia county, Ohio, on Tuesday, November 22, 1825, the celebrated Ann Bailey. From the best account we have had she must have been at least 125 years of age. According to her own story her father was a soldier in Queen Anne's wars; that on getting a furlough to go home, he found his wife with a fine daughter in her arms, whom he called Ann, after the Queen, as a token of respect. In 1714 she went from Liverpool to London with her mother on a visit to her brother-while there, she saw Lord Lovett beheaded.

She came to the United States the year after Braddock's defeat, aged then forty-six years. Her husband was killed at the battle of Point Pleasant in 1774; after that, to avenge his death, she joined the garrison, under the command of Col. Wm. Clendenin, where she remained until the final departure of the Indians from the country. She has always been noted for intrepid bravery. Col. Wm. Clendenin says, while he was commander of the garrison where Charleston, Kanawha, is now located, an attack by Indians was hourly expected. On examination it was believed that the ammunition on hand was insufficient to hold out a siege of any length; to send even two, three or four men

to Lewisburg, the nearest place it could be had, a distance of 100 miles, was like sending men to be slaughtered; and to send a larger force was weakening the garrison. While in this state Ann Bailey volunteered to leave the fort in the night and go to Lewisburg. She did so and travelled the wilderness, where not the vestige of a house was to be seen-arrived safe at Lewisburg, delivered her orders, received the ammunition, and returned safe to her post, amidst the plaudits of a grateful people."

In the April number, 1885, of the Magazine of Western History is a sketch of Mad Ann by Wm. P. Buell. It states she was born in the year 1700, in Liverpool, England, and named in honor of Queen Anne, and was present with her parents at her coronation in 1705. She was of good family; the name Sargent. At the age of nineteen, while on her way to school with books on her arm, she was kidnapped, as was common in those days, and brought to America and landed in Virginia, on James river, when she was sold to defray her expenses. At the age of thirty she married John Trotter, who was killed at the battle of Point Pleasant in 1774. loss of her husband filled her with rage and,

The

swearing vengeance upon the entire savage race, she entered upon a career as a scout and spy. She hunted, rode and fought like a man. She had a fine black horse called Liverpool, in honor of her birthplace, an animal of great beauty and intelligence. On one occasion, when she was pursued by Indians, she came to an impenetrable thicket where she was obliged to dismount and leave him for their capture. She then crawled into a hollow sycamore log. The Indians came and rested on the log, but without suspecting her concealment within. After they had gone she followed their trail, and in the darkness of night recaptured the animal, and, mounting him, when at a safe distance from being shot or taken gave a shout of defiance and bounded away. The Indians eventually became afraid of her, regarding her as insane and therefore under the special protection of the Great Spirit.

After sixteen years of widowhood she married John Bailey, a soldier, and went with him to Fort Clendenin, on the site of Charleston, Kanawha river. This was in 1790, and when she had attained to the ripe, mellow age of ninety years. Her second husband was murdered, when she went to live with

her son, William Trotter. In 1818 Trotter moved into Gallia county, became a large landowner and was justice of the peace for twenty-one years, and a highly respected man.

A Chat with James L. Newsom about Mad Ann Bailey and others was a wholesome entertainment for me while in Gallipolis. Mr. Newsom lived in a little cottage a stone's throw from the Ohio. He was rather tall, cheeks rosy, and life appeared to have gone well with him; and was a boy of fourteen when Mad Ann Bailey died. He told me that he had eleven children, eight boys and three girls; that not one of the eleven had ever tasted ardent spirits, and the eight boys always voted the Republican ticket, which I

concluded was a good thing for that ticket, but bad for the distilling business.

"I knew Ann Bailey well," he said, "and heard her say she was five years old when, in 1705, Queen Anne was crowned, and her mother took her up to London to see the event. She was a low-set, heavy woman, not over five feet two inches high, dressed in a petticoat with a man's coat over it, wore a hat, and loved whiskey in her old age; often saw her come to town with a gun and a shotpouch over her shoulder. She would not live with her son and grandchildren-was wild. Her home was a cabin, or rather pen, four miles below town, high on the Ohio river hills. She built it of fence rails, which

too

lapped at the corners. It was made like a shed, had one door and a single window, a small, four-pane affair. The roof was without nails, of black oak clapboards say four feet long, held to their places by weight poles. The chimney was merely an excuse for a chimney; was, outside, about four feet high; the fireplace would take in sticks four or five feet long. The interstices of the cabin were stuffed with straw and old rags and daubed with mud. The only floor was the earth; she had no furniture, not even a bedstead. Mad Ann was passionate, high spirited, had excellent sense, would allow no trifling with her, and hated Indians.

She was very particular in the observance of the Sabbath; gathered in the children and taught them Sunday lessons. Her voice was coarse, like the growl of a lion, and she chewed tobacco like a pig, the saliva coming down the corners of her mouth. I often saw her in town; she sometimes walked and sometimes paddled up in a canoe, and always with a gun and shot-pouch over her shoulder in hunter fashion.

Although spoken of as Mad Ann, no one ever had the temerity to so address her; the people fairly idolized her, treated her with great kindness, loaded her with presents and

plied her well with whiskey. She died from old age, never was sick-only gave out.

She looked tough as a mule and seemed about as strong. I was a stout boy of fourteen, and one day she laid down her bundle of things which people gave her. We boys were afraid of her, as she was disposed to be a little cross, but as her back was turned I tried to lift it, but was unable. She lifted it with ease, and walked all the way to her home with it, four miles away.

Mr. Newsom brought out a picture, which he gave me, saying he had kept it for years because it was an excellent likeness of Mad Ann, although not taken for her, and this is reproduced in these pages. That of the cabin is from the imagination of an artist, who being a city man has made it altogether too palatial; Mad Ann would have scorned to have lived in so pretentious a mansion.

Gen. EDWARD W. TUPPER, an officer of the war of 1812, lived in a house now standing, which faces the public square in Gallipolis. In 1812 he raised, mainly from Gallia, Jackson and Lawrence counties, 1,000 men, marched to the northwest and had a skirmish with the enemy at the foot of the Maumee Rapids. He was a large, fine-looking man, continued Mr. Newsom, and when our people

attempted to establish a ferry to Point Pleasant, the inhabitants there arose in opposition. The jurisdiction of Virginia extended over the Ohio, and they threatened to kill the first passenger who crossed. Hearing this, Tupper buckled on his sword and pistols and mounting his old war horse ordered the ferryman to take him over. He landed and galloped to and fro through the village. No one ventured to molest him, and thus was the ferry established.

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Mr. Newsom also related this anecdote of Col. Robert Safford, who, as stated, cut the first tree on the site of Gallipolis. 'One time, said Safford to me, after the defeat of St. Clair, I was in the neighborhood of Raccoon creek with a brother scout, one Hart, when we discovered an Indian seated on a hillock mending his moccasins. I told Hart we must shoot together and I would give the word by counting one, two, three, four. When I said four' he must answer four,' then we would shoot together. I did so, but Hart not responding I looked behind me where Hart was and saw him running away. I again looked at the hillock and saw not one, but four Indians; so I followed suit."

Gallipolis was the life-home of SIMEON NASH, one of the learned jurists of Ohio; he died in 1879. He aided me on the first edition by a valuable contribution. He was one of those plain, sensible, industrious men who generally go direct for their facts and get them. He was born in Massachusetts in 1801, educated at Amherst; was a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1850, and for many years Judge of the Seventh District. Judge Nash was author of various law works, as: "Digest of Ohio Reports," in twenty volumes; Morality and the State,' Crime and the Family," etc.

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JOSEPH DROUILLARD, now living, at the age of ninety-two years, with his son-in-law, Mr. James Harper, editor of the Gallipolis Journal, is a son of the "Peter Druyer* (as the name has been wrongly spelled) who rescued Simon Kenton from being burnt at the stake by the Indians. He was clerk of the court here for twenty-three years and is a highly respected citizen.

As

The cemetery at Gallipolis is unique from having so many monuments to French people. One of these is to the memory of JOHN PETER ROMAINE BUREAU. I met him here on my first visit; a little, vivacious, old gentleman, very urbane, graceful and smiling; evidently wanting everybody to feel as joyous as himself. A daughter of his, Romaine Madelaine, married Hon. Samuel F. Vinton, one of Ohio's most distinguished statesmen. (See Vinton county.) Their daughter, MADELAINE VINTON DAHLGREN, for her second husband married Admiral Dahlgren. early as 1859 she published "Sketches and Poems," under the pen-name of Corinne. Her reputation as an authoress and a lady of the highest culture, wealth of information and efficiency in the circles of Washington is too well known for other than our allusion. The Chapel of "St. Joseph's of the Sacred Heart of Jesus," at South Mountain, Md., her summer home, was built through her munificence. One of her works received the compliment of a preface from James A. Garfield, and another the thanks of Pius IX., and still another the thanks of the illustrious Montalembert. Her summer home overlooks the famous battlefield, and resembles a castle of the Middle Ages. Mrs. Dahlgren has published various works on various subjects; essays, poems, biography, magazine and newspaper articles, and nearly a dozen novels.

expense of time, and, in many cases, the only safe guide to direct their course were the township lines made by the surveyors.

The want of mills to grind the first harvests was in itself a great evil. Prior to the year 1800 many families used a small handmill, properly called a sweat-mill, which took the hard labor of two hours to supply flour enough for one person a single day. About the year 1800 one or two grist-mills, operating by water power, were erected. One of these was at Newburg, now in Cuyahoga county. But the distance of many of the settlements from the mills, and the want of roads, often rendered the expense of grinding a single bushel equal the value of two or three.

The difficulties of procuring subsistence for a family, in such circumstances, must be obvious. Often would a man leave his family in the wilderness with a stinted supply of food, and with his team or pack-horse go perhaps some twenty or thirty miles for provisions. The necessary appendages of his

journey would be an axe, a pocket compass, fireworks, and blanket and bells. He cut and beat his way through the woods with his axe, and forded almost impassable streams. When the day was spent he stopped where he was, fastened his bells to his beasts, and set them at liberty to provide for themselves. Then he would strike a fire, not only to dissipate, in some degree, the gloom and damps of night, but to annoy the gnats and mosquitos, and prevent the approach of wolves, bears and panthers. Thus the night passed, wit': the trees for his shelter. At early dawn, or perhaps long before, he is listening to catch the sound of bells, to him sweet music, for often many hours of tedious wanderings were consumed ere he could find his team and resume his journey. If prospered, on reaching his place of destination, in obtaining his expected supply, he follows his lonely way back to his anxious and secluded family, and perhaps has scarce time to refresh and rest himself ere the same journey and errand had to be repeated.

The district of country which suffered the most was about one hundred miles in length, and fifty or sixty in width, extending nearly east and west parallel with the lake, and in some places directly bordering on the shore of this great inland sea. There was no rain from the last of March, or the 1st of April, until the 10th of June, when there fell a little rain for one day, but no more until the 2d of July, when there probably fell half an inch, as it made the roads a little muddy. From this time no more rain fell until early in September. This long-continued drouth reduced the streams of water to mere rills, and many springs and wells heretofore unfailing became dry, or nearly so. The grass crop entirely failed, and through several counties the pasture grounds in places were so dry, that in walking across them the dust would rise under the feet, as in highways. So dry was the grass in meadows, that fires, when accidentally kindled, would run over them as over a stubble-field, and great caution was required to prevent damage from them. The crop of oats and corn was nearly destroyed. Many fields of wheat so perished that no attempt was made to harvest them. Scions set in the nursery dried up for lack of sap in the stocks, and many of the forest trees withered, and all shed their leaves much earlier than usual. The health of the inhabitants was not materially affected, although much sickness was anticipated. Grasshoppers were multiplied exceedingly in many places, and destroyed every green thing that the drouth had spared, even to the thistles and eldertops by the roadside.

The late frosts and cold drying winds of the spring months cut off nearly all the fruit, and what few apples remained were defective

at the core, and decayed soon after being gathered in the fall. Many of the farmers sowed fields of turnips in August and September, hoping to raise winter food for their cattle, but the seed generally failed to vegetate for lack of moisture. So great was the scarcity of food for the domestic animals, that early in the autumn large droves of cattle were sent into the valley of the Scioto, where the crops were more abundant, to pass the winter, while others were sent eastward into the borders of Pennsylvania. This region of country abounds in grasses, and one of the staple commodities is the produce of the dairy. Many stocks of dairy cows were broken up and dispersed, selling for only four or five dollars a head, as the cost of wintering would be more than their worth in the spring.

Such great losses and suffering from the effects of drouth have not been experienced in Ohio for many years, if at all since the settlement of the country. As the lands become more completely cleared of the forest trees, dry summers will doubtless be more frequent. In a region so near a large body of water we should expect more rain than in one at a distance. The sky in that district is, nevertheless, much oftener covered with clouds than in the southern portion of the State, where rains are more abundant; but the dividing ridge, or height of land between Lake Erie and the waters of the Ohio, lacks a range of high hills to attract the moisture from the clouds and cause it to descend in showers of rain.

TRAVELLING NOTES.