SKETCH OF ITS EARLY SETTLEMENT BY AN OLD PIONEER
Wayne Township was named for Mad Anthony Wayne, and was laid off in July 1817. It comprised about one-third of the county on the north, and Twin was laid off of the south side of the County. We then had but three townships in the county, Greenville, Twin, and Wayne, up to May, 1818, when Harrison was laid off of the west end of Twin. From 1815 to 1820 the men that settled in the present limits of Wayne were: David Ward Jacob Carlock, Zachariah Hole, Aaron Greer, David Bolding, Richard Brandon, Lewis Baker, Henry Swisher, Peter Radabaugh, William McGriff, John Wyland, Newberry York, and Joseph McDonald. These thirteen men, making bakers dozen, became fast friends from necessity. Isolated as they were from Joseph McDonald's on the Stillwater below Webster, to John Wyland's on the farm of the late Jonathan B. Pittsenbarger. In all house-raisings and log rollings, it took them all, and each one made it a point to be on hand. Theirs was a community of feeling a mutual interest felt by all, that cemented them together as brothers, which lasted through life.
In attempting to give an individual history of these men and their families, I feel that I shall fail to do them justice, from sheer inability. Joseph McDonald was a Quaker in faith, a Whig in politics, and an excellent man whose character was four square. Dressed plainly in homespun; and in all his transactions and dealings were the soul of honor, a man that would scorn to do a wrong.
Jacob Carlock was a Baptist in faith, a Whig in politics, a steady sedate man that dared to do right at all times. He and his wife dressed in plain homemade material. He was a man of few words, but always to the point.
Zachariah Hole was a Christian in faith and a Democrat in politics. He was an elderly man and had decided opinions of his own. He built a mill on the creek, near where S. G. Hole lives and ground the corn for the settlers. He and his wife came from Deercreek in Warren County.
Thomas McGriff was a fiddler, and furnished music for the people when they wanted anything in that line. He was industrious and frugal and lived within his means, and always had a word of cheer for the weary.
David Bolding was a large man, with little energy, a good heart and was always ready to do a favor in a slow way. He had an excellent wife. Where they came from or where they went I cannot tell.
David Ward came from the Southeast part of this state. His wife's maiden name was Elizabeth Taylor. They settled on the farm on the north side of the creek, opposite Versailles, raised a large family, and lived happy and contented. He was a Baptist in faith, a Whig in politics, a gentleman in deportment, sound in judgment and affable to his neighbors. When he was a little boy, the Indians made a raid on the house, and killed some of the inmates, captured some and carried them away. One Indian struck him with his tomahawk at the head of Mr. Ward, and gave him a glancing scalp wound on the side of the head, from which the blood ran freely. A woman visiting at the house got into a back room that had one small window in it. She took her own two children and Ward with her and closed the partition door. The Indians thought that the window was too small for her to crawl through, she being a large portly woman and was in no hurry to follow her. She put her own son out and handed out her baby, and was about to put Ward out, when the baby set up a squall, and she had to take it in, give it nurse to quiet it and then put it out again, then put Ward out, then crawled out herself and made her way off to a hiding place, and in this way saved their scalps. The Indians riddled the house, broke up all the furniture, ripped open the feather beds and scattered the feathers all over the house. Now to show you the magnanimity of Mr. Ward toward his foes; after he moved to Wayne Township, the Indians were roaming all over the country, he would feed a hungry Indian as freely as a white man and never harmed one of them, although they had killed his sister at the time referred to. If it had been me, with the hundreds of chances that Mr. Ward had, I would have made a few hundred Indian angels, and sent them to the happy hunting ground with a bullet hole in them. That is the difference between a Christian of sixty years ago, and a Christian today.
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