THE GREAT HINCKLEY HUNT
The depredations and annoyances by the wolves and bears whose haunts were in Hinckley caused the farmers and settlers of Medina, Summit and Cuyahoga Counties to resolve on a war of extermination against these beasts. A meeting was called in Strongsville in the fall of 1818, to make arrangements for the great hunt, and enlist everybody within available distance to help in the slaughter chase. A committee to conduct the hunt was selected, and they soon issued a proclamation to the farmers of the three counties.
The day fixed upon was the 24th day of December. The order was that the farmers gather by early daybreak, armed with rifles, guns, pitchforks, flails, clubs, and every available implement of war; form a continuous line on the four sides of the township, and, at a given signal, advance toward its center, killing, shooting and slaughtering all game that came within reach. A half mile square was marked out by blazed trees in the center of the township, and on this line they were all to stop, and take position, and from there kill and shoot the game within reach. Cleveland, Newburg and Royalton were to form on the north line, Brecksville and Richfield on the east line, Bath and Granger on the south, and Medina, Brunswick and Strongsville on the west. Preparations on an extensive scale at once commenced throughout the entire region, and the excitement for the impending chase began to run high.
The 24th day of December came. It was a clear, brisk day. A slight crust of snow covered the ground, and the little streams and the ground were frozen hard. Before the morning sunlight had commenced to steal through the leafless and shivering trees, the noise and laughter of men advancing from every direction toward the line, the bark of dogs and the sharp ring of rifle shots re-echoed through the woods from far and near. Startled and alarmed, the deer started from their lair and bounded in long strides for refuge in the wild confines of the central township. Many of these animals were overhauled in their flight by the swift bullet before the fun of the day had really commenced. The wolves and bears just returning from their night's raids in the settlements, sneak off in precipitous flight before the unusual noise, and hide in the thick swamps and cavernous recesses of Hinckley.
Soon the large hunting host is in line on the four sides of the battle-ground. The men take their positions, the companies touching at the four corners, and soon the square is perfect, making a continuous line of twenty miles on the inside. The north line, composed of the settlers of Cuyahoga County, numbers about one hundred and thirty men, many of them from the then infant settlement of Cleveland. It is under command of T. N. Ferris, of Royalton. The east line has about one hundred and twenty-five men, and is under charge of Judge Welton, of Richfield, and Carry Oaks, of Brecksville. The south line, under command of Zenas Hamilton, number about one hundred men, and the west line, under Abraham Freeze, of Brunswick, numbers about one hundred and twenty men. These five Captains form the Board of Managers, and the whole affair is under their immediate control and direction. The hunters stand alert and anxiously wait for the signal to pass. Then a long-drawn blast from a horn comes from the high hills in the north and echoes down the valley. It is answered on the west, and down it passes along its line, then it comes east, and up back it goes to the north. As the last bugle sound dies away, the word "all ready," passes from mouth to mouth, and with it the advance begins. Steadily the columns press on, silently at first, then comes a wild shout and soon the echoing roll of musketry, as the wild game dashes through the woods and the thick underbrush before the advancing host. The north column is the first to close in the square on the center, then follows east and west and south. It was almost a solid phalanx of men, standing close to one another.
Driven into madness and utter despair by the terrible confusion and slaughter, the deer, led by the stags, dash in droves against the lines; many are shot, others are forked and clubbed, and some, the larger and fleeter, escape — bounding over the heads of the hunters. The frightened animals, quivering and foaming, with their large eyeballs protruding, rush back and forth, from side to side, and the massacre continues. The orders are strict, that all firing must be done low and toward the center, to prevent injury to the men. In one of the rushes made by the deer against the north column, Lathrop Seymour accidentally receives a buckshot in his shoulder and one in his left leg. He is disabled, and is conveyed back to the rear to have his wounds dressed.
It is now past noon, and the carcasses of several hundred deer lie strewn on the ground through the woods. One or two bears and several wolves had been killed up to this time. The impossibility soon became apparent to the captains, that all the game enclosed in the square could be killed — and especially the bears and wolves, the extermination of which was really the purpose of the hunt — without another advance being made from the four sides. This could not be done without endangering the life and limbs of the hunters. A council of war was called, and it was decided that the lines should hold their positions, and that no further long-range firing be done, and the killing of deer and small game he prohibited. William Coggswell. of Bath. Ohio, the prince of huntsmen in his day in Ohio, and "Riley the Rover," another famous hunter, who was located at Cleveland, and whose proper name has slipped the memory of the old settlers, were then ordered, with eight more men, to advance toward the center, and "stir up" the wolves and bears, and have them come out. The men on the lines were to keep watch and kill the animals as they came out from their retreats. The men entered the arena. and their experience is best told in the words of Coggswell, who started in in advance of the little squad.
"I soon came in contact with plenty of wolves and bears, and shot several of them, when I saw near the center a monstrous bear — I think the largest I ever saw of that species. We wounded him twice, so that he dropped each time, when he retreated toward the south line, and I followed in hot pursuit. About this time, the south line advanced about forty rods; they had become so enthusiastic in the hunt that they could be restrained no longer, and this brought them within a short distance of the bear and myself. My dog, which I had left in the rear, seeing me after the bear, broke away from the young man who had him in charge, and came running to my assistance. We met the bear just as he was crossing a little creek on the ice. I ran up the bank within twenty-five or thirty feet of the bear, and stood several feet above him. About this time, the men on the south line commenced shooting at the bear, apparently regardless of me and my dog. There were probably 100 guns fired within a very short space of time, and the bullets sounded to me very much like a hailstorm. As soon as old Bruin got his head still enough so I dare shoot, I laid him out. While they were firing so many guns, a great many persons hallooed to me to come out or I would be shot; but, as it happened, neither myself nor dog were hurt. The bear soon succumbed to the hot lead that was being poured into his body. When the monster had been killed, the south line broke, regardless of all orders, and they were soon joined by the three other lines."
Now a general search commenced in the center and through the haunts and caves on the sides of the hills. Several more bears and wolves were found and killed, the last one being a wounded wolf which had secreted itself in the top of a fallen tree. Firing now closed, as darkness was coming on. The men were all called together by a trumpet-call near the spot where the big bear had been killed. They were ordered to discharge their guns and then stack them. Then the labor of dragging the game commenced. First, the wolves were drawn in, and there were just seventeen. It was then decided that the bounty money — then paid by the State for wolf scalps — should be expended in refreshments for the hunting host. Accordingly, two men were dispatched to the settlement of Richfield, several miles on the east, there to procure what they could find, and return with it to the scene of the day's action. Within a few hours, the men returned, bringing a barrel of whisky, drawn in a sled by a yoke of oxen. In the meantime, the other game had been gathered, and it was found that there were over three hundred deer and twenty-one bears. A rousing big fire was built, and the scene which had recently been a vast slaughter-pen, had now turned into one of boisterous jubilation and merriment. A roll-call was made, and it was found that there were 454 men on the ground. And then, as " Riley, the Rover," of Cleveland, the bard of the occasion, describes it in his lines on this hunt, composed some years after:
"They set the barrel on one end,
And stove the other in.
They used for tapster to attend
A ladle made of tin.
The whisky, made by honest men,
Was drank by men upright,
And none would deem it hurtful then
To drink on such a night.
Then every man drank what he chose,
And all were men of spunk;
But not a fighting wrangle rose,
And not a man got drunk."
The word was now passed that the whole squad camp here for the night. A half-dozen men soon had hold of the big bear, drawing him up by the hind legs; jerked off the skin, and the fat, greasy carcass was soon roasting and spitting before the large camp fire. But few of the hunters had brought a little "Johnny cake," and a slice of bacon or venison, and they all evinced a sharp appetite for something to eat. When the roasting had been completed, an onslaught was made with bowie knives on the body. But, as there was no salt in the camp, the food served became nauseating. From this it went to song, then speeches, and finally the night wound up with anecdotes of adventure and pioneer life. As morning came, a division of the game was made. A committee consisting of Henry Hoyt, of Liverpool, John Bigelow, of Richfield, and William Coggswell, of Bath, was elected to make the division. After the proportionate shares had been allotted to the different companies, the journey homeward was commenced, some of the hunters living twenty and thirty miles away. Many of the men who had congregated here on the wonderful occasion had been entire strangers to one another, but, after the night's strange and unusual festivities, they had grown on terms of brotherly friendship. It had been a joy and a pleasure to all of these sturdy pioneers who were the first to unfold the beauties of the beautiful "Reserve," to meet so many of their kind here, isolated and alone as their days had to be spent then in battling with the forest and clearing their farms. The game was tied on sticks, and then away the hunters wandered up the hills and down the valley, north, east, west and south.
The day fixed upon was the 24th day of December. The order was that the farmers gather by early daybreak, armed with rifles, guns, pitchforks, flails, clubs, and every available implement of war; form a continuous line on the four sides of the township, and, at a given signal, advance toward its center, killing, shooting and slaughtering all game that came within reach. A half mile square was marked out by blazed trees in the center of the township, and on this line they were all to stop, and take position, and from there kill and shoot the game within reach. Cleveland, Newburg and Royalton were to form on the north line, Brecksville and Richfield on the east line, Bath and Granger on the south, and Medina, Brunswick and Strongsville on the west. Preparations on an extensive scale at once commenced throughout the entire region, and the excitement for the impending chase began to run high.
The 24th day of December came. It was a clear, brisk day. A slight crust of snow covered the ground, and the little streams and the ground were frozen hard. Before the morning sunlight had commenced to steal through the leafless and shivering trees, the noise and laughter of men advancing from every direction toward the line, the bark of dogs and the sharp ring of rifle shots re-echoed through the woods from far and near. Startled and alarmed, the deer started from their lair and bounded in long strides for refuge in the wild confines of the central township. Many of these animals were overhauled in their flight by the swift bullet before the fun of the day had really commenced. The wolves and bears just returning from their night's raids in the settlements, sneak off in precipitous flight before the unusual noise, and hide in the thick swamps and cavernous recesses of Hinckley.
Soon the large hunting host is in line on the four sides of the battle-ground. The men take their positions, the companies touching at the four corners, and soon the square is perfect, making a continuous line of twenty miles on the inside. The north line, composed of the settlers of Cuyahoga County, numbers about one hundred and thirty men, many of them from the then infant settlement of Cleveland. It is under command of T. N. Ferris, of Royalton. The east line has about one hundred and twenty-five men, and is under charge of Judge Welton, of Richfield, and Carry Oaks, of Brecksville. The south line, under command of Zenas Hamilton, number about one hundred men, and the west line, under Abraham Freeze, of Brunswick, numbers about one hundred and twenty men. These five Captains form the Board of Managers, and the whole affair is under their immediate control and direction. The hunters stand alert and anxiously wait for the signal to pass. Then a long-drawn blast from a horn comes from the high hills in the north and echoes down the valley. It is answered on the west, and down it passes along its line, then it comes east, and up back it goes to the north. As the last bugle sound dies away, the word "all ready," passes from mouth to mouth, and with it the advance begins. Steadily the columns press on, silently at first, then comes a wild shout and soon the echoing roll of musketry, as the wild game dashes through the woods and the thick underbrush before the advancing host. The north column is the first to close in the square on the center, then follows east and west and south. It was almost a solid phalanx of men, standing close to one another.
Driven into madness and utter despair by the terrible confusion and slaughter, the deer, led by the stags, dash in droves against the lines; many are shot, others are forked and clubbed, and some, the larger and fleeter, escape — bounding over the heads of the hunters. The frightened animals, quivering and foaming, with their large eyeballs protruding, rush back and forth, from side to side, and the massacre continues. The orders are strict, that all firing must be done low and toward the center, to prevent injury to the men. In one of the rushes made by the deer against the north column, Lathrop Seymour accidentally receives a buckshot in his shoulder and one in his left leg. He is disabled, and is conveyed back to the rear to have his wounds dressed.
It is now past noon, and the carcasses of several hundred deer lie strewn on the ground through the woods. One or two bears and several wolves had been killed up to this time. The impossibility soon became apparent to the captains, that all the game enclosed in the square could be killed — and especially the bears and wolves, the extermination of which was really the purpose of the hunt — without another advance being made from the four sides. This could not be done without endangering the life and limbs of the hunters. A council of war was called, and it was decided that the lines should hold their positions, and that no further long-range firing be done, and the killing of deer and small game he prohibited. William Coggswell. of Bath. Ohio, the prince of huntsmen in his day in Ohio, and "Riley the Rover," another famous hunter, who was located at Cleveland, and whose proper name has slipped the memory of the old settlers, were then ordered, with eight more men, to advance toward the center, and "stir up" the wolves and bears, and have them come out. The men on the lines were to keep watch and kill the animals as they came out from their retreats. The men entered the arena. and their experience is best told in the words of Coggswell, who started in in advance of the little squad.
"I soon came in contact with plenty of wolves and bears, and shot several of them, when I saw near the center a monstrous bear — I think the largest I ever saw of that species. We wounded him twice, so that he dropped each time, when he retreated toward the south line, and I followed in hot pursuit. About this time, the south line advanced about forty rods; they had become so enthusiastic in the hunt that they could be restrained no longer, and this brought them within a short distance of the bear and myself. My dog, which I had left in the rear, seeing me after the bear, broke away from the young man who had him in charge, and came running to my assistance. We met the bear just as he was crossing a little creek on the ice. I ran up the bank within twenty-five or thirty feet of the bear, and stood several feet above him. About this time, the men on the south line commenced shooting at the bear, apparently regardless of me and my dog. There were probably 100 guns fired within a very short space of time, and the bullets sounded to me very much like a hailstorm. As soon as old Bruin got his head still enough so I dare shoot, I laid him out. While they were firing so many guns, a great many persons hallooed to me to come out or I would be shot; but, as it happened, neither myself nor dog were hurt. The bear soon succumbed to the hot lead that was being poured into his body. When the monster had been killed, the south line broke, regardless of all orders, and they were soon joined by the three other lines."
Now a general search commenced in the center and through the haunts and caves on the sides of the hills. Several more bears and wolves were found and killed, the last one being a wounded wolf which had secreted itself in the top of a fallen tree. Firing now closed, as darkness was coming on. The men were all called together by a trumpet-call near the spot where the big bear had been killed. They were ordered to discharge their guns and then stack them. Then the labor of dragging the game commenced. First, the wolves were drawn in, and there were just seventeen. It was then decided that the bounty money — then paid by the State for wolf scalps — should be expended in refreshments for the hunting host. Accordingly, two men were dispatched to the settlement of Richfield, several miles on the east, there to procure what they could find, and return with it to the scene of the day's action. Within a few hours, the men returned, bringing a barrel of whisky, drawn in a sled by a yoke of oxen. In the meantime, the other game had been gathered, and it was found that there were over three hundred deer and twenty-one bears. A rousing big fire was built, and the scene which had recently been a vast slaughter-pen, had now turned into one of boisterous jubilation and merriment. A roll-call was made, and it was found that there were 454 men on the ground. And then, as " Riley, the Rover," of Cleveland, the bard of the occasion, describes it in his lines on this hunt, composed some years after:
"They set the barrel on one end,
And stove the other in.
They used for tapster to attend
A ladle made of tin.
The whisky, made by honest men,
Was drank by men upright,
And none would deem it hurtful then
To drink on such a night.
Then every man drank what he chose,
And all were men of spunk;
But not a fighting wrangle rose,
And not a man got drunk."
The word was now passed that the whole squad camp here for the night. A half-dozen men soon had hold of the big bear, drawing him up by the hind legs; jerked off the skin, and the fat, greasy carcass was soon roasting and spitting before the large camp fire. But few of the hunters had brought a little "Johnny cake," and a slice of bacon or venison, and they all evinced a sharp appetite for something to eat. When the roasting had been completed, an onslaught was made with bowie knives on the body. But, as there was no salt in the camp, the food served became nauseating. From this it went to song, then speeches, and finally the night wound up with anecdotes of adventure and pioneer life. As morning came, a division of the game was made. A committee consisting of Henry Hoyt, of Liverpool, John Bigelow, of Richfield, and William Coggswell, of Bath, was elected to make the division. After the proportionate shares had been allotted to the different companies, the journey homeward was commenced, some of the hunters living twenty and thirty miles away. Many of the men who had congregated here on the wonderful occasion had been entire strangers to one another, but, after the night's strange and unusual festivities, they had grown on terms of brotherly friendship. It had been a joy and a pleasure to all of these sturdy pioneers who were the first to unfold the beauties of the beautiful "Reserve," to meet so many of their kind here, isolated and alone as their days had to be spent then in battling with the forest and clearing their farms. The game was tied on sticks, and then away the hunters wandered up the hills and down the valley, north, east, west and south.