Dr. Jacob Lewis
Dr. Jacob Lewis never really practiced much, but was here as early as 1803. He was born in Somerville, Somerset County, New Jersey, October 13, 1767. His father was in the Revolutionary army, and while in service was attacked with camp fever and sent home, where he died. He left a wife and seven children. The family had a good farm, upon which they were able to raise everything necessary for comfort. In 1790 Jacob went out on a visit to his sister, who was settled in the western part of Virginia. The neighborhood was exposed; but as there had been no attacks by Indians latley, the inhabitants began to think they were safe. One evening in the spring of 1791 he returned from hi work, feeling sleepy, and laid down, waiting the preparation for supper. While asleep, three Indians came into the house and shot his brother-in-law dead. A young man who was sitting by the fire struck at the Indians with a drawing knife, which fell from his hands, and he immediately bounded out the back door, passing through the room where Jacob was lying. The noise woke the latter, and he, too, made his escape. As he rose he saw through the half-open door the lifeless bodies of his sister and brother-in-law, with the hostile Indiana, and he fled to alarm the neighbors. This, he found, had already been done by the other young man; and as soon as a sufficient party could be gathered, the Indians were pursued.
The next day two neighbors went to the house and found the dead bodies of Kinan, the brother-in-law, his little daughter, and one of the children of Mrs. Ward, a neighbor. Mrs. Kinan was nowhere to be found, so they concluded she must have been taken prisoner. Six had escaped out of the ten who were in the house at the time.
Jacob Lewis was thus left with the care of two orphan children on his hands. After considering the matter, he decided to leave the children with one of the settlers and return to New Jersey, where, he did not doubt, he could persuade one of his brothers who had been recently married, to move out, take the farm, and take care of the boys. Nothing, however, could induce him to do so. The country was too hazardous for him. Two of the family were willing, however, each to take one of the boys and bring him up in New Jersey. He consequently returned, worked on the place the whole Summer, and in the following Spring conveyed the boys to their uncles, who brought them up as their own.
Mr. Lewis remained in New Jersey, taking up the study of medicine with Dr. John Randolph, of Somerset County. In the Fall of 1793 a letter was received from his sister, Mrs. Kinan, who was a prisoner among the Indians. She had been enabled to send it through a Quaker gentleman, who was in attendance upon the commissioners empowered to treat for peace with the Indians. Her messenger took the yellow fever in Philadelphia, dying of it, and consequently the letter had been long delayed. She said that if her brothers would call on Mr. Albert, an Indian trader, at Detroit, they could find out where she was.
Jacob Lewis was the only unmarried one of the family, and it was resolved that he should make the attempt, his other brothers helping with their means. He set out on horseback about the 1st of November, going by way of Western New York. At Genesee he left his horse, and engaged to help a young man who was just starting for Niagara with a drove of cattle. On the way they suffered much with cold, and were obliged to camp out for two nights. Late on the third day they reached Niagara. This was still three hundred miles from his destination, with an unsettled country to pass through.
On telling his story, he received a pass from the authorities, and an introduction to Colonel Butler, Indian agent for that section of the country. He gave him a letter to Captain Brant, the chief of the Six Nations, whose camp was about thirty miles in the direction of Detroit. He remained at the Indian camp for about a week before he could get a guide. At last Captain Brant, who, in the meantime, had treated him well, procured for him two guides, who agreed to make the trip for twenty dollars. It was a very weary journey, traveling through unbroken woods and swamps, in snow and sleet, with little food and little rest, camping every night with such frail shelter as they could put up after a hard day’s tramp. They reached Detroit on the third day of February, 1794. Here he dismissed his guides, and presented his pass to Colonel England, the officer in command at Detroit. These were suspicious times on the frontier, so he had to stand a close examination; but after exhibiting his letters and telling the object of his travels, Colonel England gave him a permit to remain. The next day he fortunately found Mr. Robert Albert in town, and showed him his sister’s letter. He said he knew her well, that he had goods for her tribe, and she had often worked for him when he was with them. He appeared very willing to give Lewis all the assistance in his power, but said that he would have to act very cautiously, as, should the Indians suspect that he was at all concerned in her release, that would be an end to his trade with them. He also met Israel Rulin, who knew her, and tried to make arrangement for her purchase. Rulin made application with the old squaw who owned Mrs. Kinan; but she could not be induced to part with her. Much disappointed at his failure, he spent some weeks at Detroit trying to devise other plans for her release. He received the sympathy and friendship of many of the best people in the place, and was advised by all to act very cautiously, as, if the Indians suspected his object, his sister would be hurried off to some of their distant camps.
Weeks passed in this way, alternating between hope and fear. All the traders he met seemed to sympathize with him; but were unwilling to run any risk to aid him. He could not even induce them to acquaint his sister of his presence in Detroit, as it would only result in a useless attempt to escape, followed by greater hardship and her removal to a distant camp. Mr. Lewis, however, was determined to remain in the neighborhood and persevere in his plans, however long it might take. Just as he was looking around for means to get into the Indian country, a contractor came to Detroit to engage men to cut and clear timber around Fort Maumee. This gave him just the chance he wanted; so he engaged at once as a chopper, and in a few days was at work.
A few weeks afterward the advance of General Wayne and his army was reported at the fort, and with it came large numbers of Indians, who encamped in its neighborhood. Mr. Lewis had enlisted the sympathies of a companion of his daily work, Thomas Matthews, and they resolved to go out to the Indian encampment, though without much expectation of finding the missing one.
"We went out," he says, "and straggled among them in a careless manner for fear of being suspected. While thus walking about, a woman clapped her hands and cried out, ‘Lord have mercy on me!’ I knew her at once, but turned my back toWard her, and walked off, telling Matthews who she was. We dare not go to speak to her, but turned our course toward the fort, at the same time fixing in our minds the direction toward her tent and the lay of the ground and timber about the camp. There was a large burr or white-oak tree lying prostrate near the camp with a dense top. As we knew the Indians kept no sentries at night, we thought if we could only get her to come there at night we could easily carry her off; but how to make the arrangement with her to meet us was the puzzling part. We had observed that the squaw at whose tent she was had a cow. ; and it was agreed that Matthews should go the next morning to the squaw with a loaf of bread, and try to exchange it for milk. I was afraid to go myself, lest I should, by my emotion, betray myself. So Matthews went; and, fortunately, my sister was called to interpret. This gave him the opportunity he wanted, and he mingled the milk and bread talk with the plan for escape, which she agreed to. Fortunately the head engineer had command of the outposts that night, and, as he knew my story, when he learned of our plans he told the guard to pass us outside of the lines, and allow us to return with any one we might bring with us.
"We went to the tree as soon as it was quite dark, and waited there till near daylight; but my sister did not come, and we were obliged to return to the fort disappointed. The bread and milk strategy was tried by Matthews again. He found that she had been out all night, but in a different tree-top. He soon made her understand which tree was to be our meeting-place, and returned. Again our friend, the engineer, favored us. We waited at the tree but a short time, when my sister came. Our greeting was short, as the slightest noise might defeat our plans. We started at once for the fort. When we got within the lines, not deeming it safe to take her into the fort, we took her to a large brush-heap near the fort, where we had been at work that day, in the middle of which I had made a hollow large enough for a person to sit in quite comfortably. Here we left her, well supplied with water and provisions. The next day had nearly passed, when I heard that a boast called the Shawnee had been ordered down the river, and thence to Turtle Island. I immediately went to the boat, and frankly told the captain how I was circumstanced, and asked him to carry myself and my sister to Turtle Island. After studying a few minutes, he said that he would if I could get my sister safely aboard; but said he, ‘It will be almost impossible; se yonder there are almost a hundred Indians scattered along the bank.’ I told him to leave that to me. I went to the fort, got an extra suit of clothes I had, and, taking them to the brush-pile, told my sister to put them on. When she was dressed, I tool her by the arm as if she was sick, and started for the boat. One of my fellow-workmen saw us, and, not knowing what I had been doing, halloed to me, ‘You are afraid of Wayne, are you, and going to Detroit?’ I answered that I was helping this sick man on board the Shawnee, and walked on through the crowd of Indians, and got aboard without attracting attention.
"By daylight next morning we were safely moored at Turtle Island. Hre we took passage on a brig bound for Detroit; but when we got to the head of the lake we were becalmed, and, fearing delay, at my request the captain landed us on the Canadian side, and we walked up to Detroit. Here we procured a rooms at a tavern; and I was so overcome with my anxiety and excitement that I was taken sick, and was confined to my bed for a week. We had to remain some time here before we could get a chance to go to Niagara. Colonel England again befriended me. When a vessel was about starting for the mouth of the Chippewa, he procured a passage for us, and gave us a pass. We had a smooth passage down the lake, landed at the mouth of the Chippewa, and made our way down the Canadian side to Queenstown. Here we obtained new passes, and sailed for the mouth of the Genessee River. Thence we traveled on foot to where I had left my horse on my outWard trip. I found the horse had been traded off; but I got another. On this my sister rode, and I walked by her side all the way to New Jersey. We reached Somerset in the month of October, lacking only a few days of a year from the time I started out, and there was a great rejoicing among the family and neighborhood."
Mr. Lewis remained in New Jersey about a year, finishing his professional studies, when he married and moved to the western part of Pennsylvania, and established himself in practice. In the Spring of 1802 he moved to Hamilton, Ohio, where he lived quietly and prosperously.
In 1813 Dr. Lewis was appointed surgeon’s mate of the First Regiment, Third Detachment, of Ohio militia. Colonel James Mills commanded the regiment, which rendezvoused at Dayton. They were ordered to St. Mary’s, where the regiment was divided into three divisions. Dr. Lewis had professional charge of the two divisions stationed at Wapakoneta and Amanda, which were on the Auglaize, almost twelve miles apart.
His superior officer, Dr. Squier Littel, soon after this resigned, and Lewis had charge of the whole regiment. When news came that the British and Indians were collecting strongly near Fort Meigs, the First Regiment was ordered down the St. Mary’s to that point; but Lewis was left at Amanda in charge of a large number of sick and wounded at that place. Here he had comfortable quarters and good attendance. Sheriff James Smith, paymaster, was his room-mate.
At the end of six months for which the regiment had enlisted they were mustered out, and returned to Hamilton. Lewis then made a visit to his friends in New Jersey, and on his return settled on his farm, which he had purchased in 1804.
Dr. Lewis died July 19, 1851, of apoplexy, it is supposed, having been found dead in his stable on his farm in Butler County.
From A History and Biographical Cyclopædia of Butler County Ohio, With Illustrations and Sketches of its Representative Men and Pioneers, Western Biographical Publishing Company, Cincinnati Ohio, 1882.