Shooting the Town Bull at Parkersburg in 1845

The Marietta Register, January 2, 1868

The Parkersburg Gazette has been publishing some historical sketches of that place - written, we judge, by J. E. Wharton, Esq. The following is his account of an affair which caused much laughter at the time. It was, if we are not in error, in 1845, when Garner, Lorraine and Thomas of Decatur Township, this county, lay in Parkersburg jail, having been seized by Virginians, at the Ohio shore, just below Blennerhassett, for aiding in the escape of slaves. He says:

"The town bull story is one of the institutions of our place. In 1840 or about that time, there were numerous slaves run across the Ohio, as was supposed by the Ohio abolitionists. A company was raised to defend the 'peculiar institution' from the Bohemians - Capt. Daggs commanded. The boys were kept on qui vive every night with the guns, pistols and sabres in good condition, and they had fun at wholesale, on night there was an extra alarm. All were called to duty. 

"The Captain came up street with sword drawn and pistols cocked and called his men to order, and they were drawn up in line on Ann Street about Court. Some had just come from visiting the girls, some from the whisky shops and some from a sound nap. They listened. There was a stir in the bushes that embellished the borders of Pond run. The soldiers listened with all their ears and watched with all their eyes. 

"The word went out that the abolitionists had landed and were forcing their way up to the very muzzles of their guns. The bushes cracked, the Captain trembled in his boots, some ran for safer points, and something dark parted the bushes, and Captain thundered out, fi-fi-fire. About twenty guns rang out upon the midnight air. 

"The sound was followed by another, more dreadful still. It was 'boo-bo-baugh,' a cross between the sound of a steam whistle, thunder and an ungreased car wheel - the bushes cracked again. There was a heavy thud and all was still. A part of the soldiers looked and kited for their homes.

"The next morning there was a crowd of boys examining the corpse of the town bull in those bushes. His skin was so full of holes that it was unfit to tan, and they buried him in the run from which his ghost sometimes arose, in low water, and glared with solemn anger across the river toward the abolitionists who had been the primary cause of his untimely death.

"The escape of slaves through some means, either by the aid of abolitionists in Ohio, or of their own motion, was so great that it is not surprising that deep and general feeling pervaded our people, and mistakes or follies were committed in the defence of what was then regarded everywhere as a property peculiarly valuable and sacred, as it was not only the money value of slaves that was lost, but valuable house servants that could not be replaced, were lost."

In place here we print the lines below, written at the time by A. Winchester, the clever old gentleman who now resides in Harmar. We have had the manuscript in our hands for a long time:

The Mighty Battle

Listen, ye brave of every land and clime,

While I relate strange prodigies in rhyme,

Such deeds of valor never done before,

Were acted near the great Ohio shore.

Let bards no more attempt to tune the lyre

To sing the praises of the ancient Tyre;

No ancient city, though of great renown,

Could e'er compare with our great modern town.

Let old Athens boast not of laurels won,

Nor Spartan warriors of the deeds they've done;

Let learned men no more their pens employ

To celebrate the deeds of ancient Troy.

And mighty Rome with all her pomp and pride,

Compared with us, I'm sure would step aside;

Her fair fained laurels at our feet would yield

And own us mighty in the battle field.

Behold! our men are not afraid to die,

They cross the river and in ambush lie,

With dirks and pistols there, in dreadful fight,

Three Buckeyes captured in the dead of night.

Our valiant soldiers of the best renown,

Were now enrolled throughout our famous town,

To guard the prison and secure the place,

Against the onsets from the Buckeye race.

But lo! one dark and solitary night,

An abolition host appear'd in sight;

Our brave and warlike men reserved their fire,

Until the foe advanced a little higher.

Fired with the thoughts of victory and fame,

They raise their muskets, take deliberate aim,

The word was fire, and oh! what showers of lead!

The day was gained; THE OLD TOWN BULL WAS DEAD!

                                                            Satireacilus