"... At the beginning of the War of 1812, Fort Stephenson (Sandusky) was built on the west bank of the river. The fort enclosed about an acre of ground. Major George Croghan, with 250 soldiers, successfully defended this fort (August 3, 1813), against a British and Indian force of over 1,300. This victory earned Croghan, who was Gen. George Rogers Clark’s nephew, the brevet rank of Lt. Colonel. ..."Indeed, the present northern border of Ohio was not decided, in its conflict with the Territory of Michigan, until 1836.
"... Finally, on June 15, 1836, the controversy ended when the President of the United States approved An Act to establish the northern boundary of Ohio, and to provide for the admission of the State of Michigan into the Union upon the conditions therein expressed. The boundaries prescribed for Michigan took away all the land south of the Harris Line, 400 square miles. Michigan received 9,000 square miles (which now is its Upper Peninsula) for its loss. Also, it was admitted to the Union on January 26, 1837 as part of the compromise."To suggest that the rural western Ohio of Annie Oakley's youth, (who, being born in 1860, her father a veteran of the War of 1812, and who at the age of 8 or 9, lost her birth family, in 1868 or '69, to the cruel administration of the rural Ohio poor farm system), is somehow not a legitimate source of the "pioneer" sensibility originally requested by the OP, is to pretty much eschew, entirely, the successes of her life, and her rise from the worst kind of personal servitude, to the heights of world re-known, regardless of any personal quirks and sensibilities her early history may have, in the latter epoch of her life, revealed.
So far as the plains were concerned, the main thing brought by the [gold] rush [of 1849] was a new horror—cholera. The disease was not unknown along the eastern end of the Oregon Trail (Whitman had fought it there in 1835, three years after it had ravaged New Orleans), but this year its virulence surpassed prior experience. In St. Louis, at the height of the epidemic, the death wagons were carting off sixty to eighty persons a day. Barrels of tar, sulphur, and other reputed disinfectants were burned on the street corners in hopes that the dense, stinking clouds of smoke would "dissipate the foul air." A hundred-dollar fine was imposed for bringing fresh vegetables or meats into the city from the country, and emigrants were quarantined in a special compound. From St. Louis the disease moved upriver to Independence and Westport, then rode westward with the California-bound caravans. Hundreds of graves began to dot the Oregon Trail.
Far out on the plains the epidemic began to burn itself out, but not before a Cheyenne village had visited a camp of emigrants who were drying meat beside the Platte. As the Cheyennes moved on southward, mysterious cramps began to seize men and women. They fell from their horses, went into convulsions, died. The survivors had no idea what was the matter. In terror they fled toward the Arkansas, and when the deaths stopped they supposed they had outrun the invisible enemy. Recovering confidence, they crossed the river to a conclave of prairie tribes celebrate a new peace between the Osages and Kiowas.
So lucrative a trade spot might have attracted William [Bent], but he had gone to Westport with the caravan and had taken his eldest boy, eight-year-old Robert, with him. Perhaps he had a notion of continuing to St. Louis, but the plague drove him away from the settlements. Meanwhile Yellow Woman [William Bent's wife] had gone to the tribal conclave with her aged mother and her stepchildren—Mary, George, and the baby Charles. It was a fine gathering—lots of feasting and trade. Yellow Woman picked up an iron kettle she needed, then everyone gathered to watch the Kiowas farewell dance.
In the middle of the drumming a big Kiowa warrior keeled over, writhing and clutching at his belly. The medicine men carried him into a lodge, where he expired. A curious Osage elbowed through the crowd to take a look, groaned suddenly, and then collapsed. Now White Face Bull, one of the Cheyenne chiefs, recognized the curious slayer which had followed the party from the Platte.
"The Big Cramps!" he yelled. "Everybody run!"
Panic swept the encampment. Shrieking Indians scattered in every direction. Some did not tarry long enough to tear down their lodges. In mortal terror Yellow Woman assembled her family. Eleven-year-old Mary was big enough to ride, but George and baby Charles were piled into a mule-drawn travois with a keg of water, some dried meat, and bread. As fast as the horses could go, the Cheyennes streamed toward the Cimarron, the travois bumping and the children screaming with fright until exhaustion put them to sleep.
All along the way people died, but darkness finally forced the unreasoned flight to pause. While they were making camp, more perished. One warrior donned full war dress, mounted his best horse, and rode through the village, calling for the cowardly enemy to come into the open and fight. There was no answer. As he stepped from his horse, convulsions seized him and he died in his wife's arms.
During the night the children's grandmother, old Grey Thunder's widow, died in agony. Yellow Woman persuaded some friends to help her hastily put the body in a tree scaffold, and at dawn the wild flight began again. Completely bewildered, afraid of each other, afraid even of the dry wind that whispered across the sand, the group split into smaller and smaller segments. Finally Yellow Woman slipped away from everyone else and took the children to the fort.
Utter cut a notable figure; although only five and a half feet tall, he is reported as being extremely meticulous in his appearance, highly unusual for that place and time. He had long, flowing blond hair and mustache, perfectly groomed, wore hand-tailored fringed buckskins, fine linen shirts, beaded moccasins, and a large silver belt buckle, and carried a pair of gold, silver, and pearl ornamented pistols. He would allow nobody into his tent, even Hickok, on pain of being shot; in his tent he slept under the highest quality blankets, imported from California, and carried with him mirrors, combs, razors, and whisk brooms. Most unusual of all, he was well known for his "bizarre habit" of bathing daily.
posted by Blazecock Pileon at 12:16 PM on March 15, 2010 [8 favorites]