But the “jerks,” as well as witchcraft, soon gave way before the ministers of the gospel, who were a social body of men, welcomed always at pioneer homes: although many stories have been circulated in regard to their love for barn-yard poultry. In early days wild game was common, and when a preacher called, something extra was sought in honor of the guest, and generally a chicken was sacrificed for the occasion. At one time, the minister who said “a turkey was an unhandy bird—rather too much for one, and not quite enough for two,” called to dine with a widow woman and sister in the church, who was noted for her willingness to put the “best foot foremost.” After a short time the clergyman went out to look after his horse, and heard a boy crying, and soon located him back of the corn-crib, with a chicken under his arm. “What is the matter, sonny?” said the divine in his most soothing manner. The boy bawled out “Matter! between the hawks and circuit-riders, this is the only chicken left on the place.”
Early in the nineteenth century a citizen and observing author[14] says: “There is a prejudice against all preachers in this (Ohio) and all other states is certainly true; but, so far as we are acquainted with them, and we know them well, we are compelled to say that our clergymen in Ohio, especially those who have lived here ever since our first settlement, deserve unqualified praise for their zeal and good works. No men in this state have been so useful in building up society, in making us a moral and truly religious people.
“Their disinterestedness and benevolence; their kindness, forbearance and charity, zeal, industry and perseverance in well-doing, merit and receive the respect, gratitude and affection of all good men. They have labored zealously and faithfully and long, and their pay has been but trifling. We name them not, though we know them all. They have always been the true friends of liberty, and they would be the very last men in the nation to wish to overturn our free institutions.”
The work of the clergy, though differing from that of the doctor, often caused them to meet on common ground, and they were alike fast friends of humanity and of each other. As a financial success neither could boast the superior; but in the good works in which they were engaged the minister of the gospel held the longer and stronger lever. With the doctor “death ended all;” but the lessons of the man of inspiration established a faith in a higher and everlasting existence, which shed its influence from the departed to the living, and placed in view another and higher kingdom.
For many years the learned profession of law was a mere form, and practically remained on the statute books. Few indeed were the causes justifying legal investigation. Parties having grievances preferred to settle them in the primitive way.
A single recorded instance so fully represents the infant scales of justice in Ohio that we quote the proceedings of the first court held in Greene county, in a public “tavern” with all the accommodations for man and beast.
The first court-house in this county was not located within the area of the present city of Xenia, and it was by no means as pretentious as the present structure. A primitive log cabin with a single room, in a “clearing” of a few acres, some five miles west of the present county seat, a little off the road which leads from Xenia to Dayton, with Owen Davis’s mill on one side and a block-house on the other side of the stream, was the place where the blind goddess first set up her balances.
The building was constructed by General Benj. Whiteman more than a century ago, and shortly after became the property of Peter Borders, and was selected by the “court” as the seat of justice in 1803, when the first session was held to complete the county organization. The first term of court was synonymous with a meeting of the county commissioners of the present day. The presiding, or law, judge, Hon. Francis Dunlavy, was not present, and the associate judges, William Maxwell, Benjamin Whitman and James Barrett, with John Paul, clerk, met at the Borders cabin on the 10th of May, 1803, and duly dedicated it. The session lasted but a single day, and the business dispatched was the organization of the townships. This done, the court adjourned until the next regular session, which convened some two months later.
This was a more imposing court and was convened for trying such causes, civil and criminal, as might come up for consideration. The court opened with a perfect, clean docket, and for a short time it looked as though there would be nothing to do. Judge Francis Dunlavy, then one of the most distinguished citizens of the new state, and who had served in the territorial legislature, from Hamilton county, presided, with associate justices Maxwell, Whiteman and Barrett on the bench, and Daniel Symmes, of Hamilton, performing the duties of prosecuting attorney. The grand jury was composed of William J. Stewart, foreman, John Wilson, Wm. Buckles, Abram Van Eaton, James Snodgrass, John Judy, Evan Morgan, Robert Marshall, Alex. C. Armstrong, Joseph Wilson, Joseph C. Vance, John Buckingham, Martin Mindenhall and Henry Martin, who were duly sworn and impaneled.
Chief Justice Dunlavy (as recorded) delivered a forcible charge to the grand jury, directing it to diligently inquire into and make a true presentment of all infractions of the law within its bailiwick. Duly impressed with the solemnity of the charge to which they had listened, the jury retired a few yards distant from the cabin, where they began the first grand inquest, but the most diligent inquiry failed to discover a single case requiring their attention and action.