Vacation

Readers:  My wife and I are going on a two week vacation, from July 15 thru July 28.  So I won't be able to post another article until I return from my trip.

Charles Leach

Stephen Stateler - Third of Three Articles

Part Three of Three.  The following was taken from the Hartford Herald, published November 6, 1907.

THRILLING ACCOUNT

OF EARLY TIMES IN GREEN RIVER COUNTRY

______________________________________________

HARTFORD IN THE LONG AGO

_____________________________________________

Graphic Narrative of Dangerous

Travel and Encounters With Indians

_____________________________________

(Continued from last week)

            I had been at Mr. Rhoad’s about a week when his son asked me to go into the woods with him to hunt the horses, and 1 readily agreed to do so, but insisted on having a gun. His mother forbade him loaning me the gun and directed him to take the gun away from me. I entreated her to let me have it, and was about to surrender it when her husband, coming up, interfered and told me to take the gun with me. I merely mention this fact as one of many instances of the doubtful and suspicious relation that I bore to the people of the place. The young man and I went out into the woods. The good old Dutch lady who had objected to my having the gun was that day the victim of serious alarms concerning the safety of her son and was greatly relieved in the evening when we returned home safe and loaded with wild game. Her suspicions against me were completely dissipated next morning when she discovered me reading a Dutch almanac, and said to me, “Is it possible that you can read Dutch?”

            I told her that my parents were Dutch, and that I understood the language. This clever old lady afterwards treated me with marked kindness and respect, which amply repaid me for any injury I sustained from her unjust suspicions.

            Barnett’s station was situated about two miles north of Hartford, and the people of both places were continually harassed by slight depredations from the Indians. It had been rumored that the Indians meditated an attack upon the station, and in April, 1790, they did assail Barnett’s station and killed two children of John Anderson and wounded Mrs. Anderson severely. She came very near being killed. A large powerful Indian had hold of her and was attempting to scalp her with a sword, when John Miller came to her rescue and when within a few steps raised his rifle and snapped it at the Indian who dropped his sword and fled but took with him the scalp of Mrs. Anderson. This lady afterward recovered and lived ten or twelve years afterwards. The Indians in this foray captured and carried off with them Hannah Barnett, a daughter of Col. Joseph Barnett, then a lovely young girl about ten years of age. They conveyed her across the Ohio river into Indiana territory. She was ransomed from the Indians by her brother- in-law, Mr. Robert Baird, who bargained with a trader to have her brought in to a post opposite Louisville, and she was accordingly rescued in the month of October following.

            In August of the same year I had the good fortune to recover my gun, which I did under the following circumstances: A company of about fifteen persons, myself among the number, had been raised in Hartford and Vienna to pursue some Indians. We traced them to “Robertson’s Lick” (since called Highland Lick) and abandoned the pursuit. We were about to return when I prevailed on two of the company, Dudley Miller and Moses Springton, to accompany mo to see if I could find it. We reached the river opposite and near to the spot where I had lost it. Miller stood guard whilst Springton and I swam across the Ohio. In a short time I found the place where I camped and upon examination I was satisfied that the tree to which I had tied my gun was now distant about twenty or thirty yards from the water. In searching down stream a short distance from this tree, Springton raised the gun up before him and cried, “Here she is.” It took a great deal of scouring and cleaning to get the rust off, but that same old gun killed many a deer afterwards. Upon my return to Hartford I exhibited my gun with more heartfelt satisfaction than can well be imagined at this day. Many persons about Hartford never had believed the account of my adventures as I had detailed them, but when I appeared with my gun, found as it had been by Springton, at the very spot I had so often described, and bearing evident marks of the truth of my assertion, I was at once acquitted of all suspicions in the minds of the most incredulous; and now for upwards of half a century have I lived near this same town of Hartford and endeavored to maintain the same character for truth and honesty which the appearance of my gun at that time enabled me to attain.

            In the same month, August, 1790, the Indians attacked three men who were hunting near the mouth of Green river. The men were camping out when they were attacked. Two of the men Mcllmurray and Faith, were killed; the third, Martin Vannada was taken prisoner. Taking their prisoner with them they crossed the Ohio river and traveled several days toward the North. They came upon what the Indians considered the signs and tracks of white men and in order not to be impeded by their prisoner they determined to leave him. I have frequently heard Vannada relate that terrible adventure.

            The Indians determined to leave him but at the same time to secure him so that he could not escape before their return. They spread down a blanket at the foot of a tree. With a thong of raw hides they pinioned his hands behind him to the tree, and another they tied around his neck and around the tree, wrapping it and twisting it securely both before and behind fastening his head back close to the tree, also lashing his feet together, and in this secure position they left him. Vannada immediately commenced his efforts to extricate himself. In the course of an hour he felt the knot which bound his hands behind the tree to loosen. He soon had his hands loose. Drawing his feet up he untied the thong which bound them but now his task seemed only begun. He could not reach around the tree to where the knot was, and it was so securely tied and twisted between his neck and the tree that he could not slip it, and as he moved around himself the knots would also move so as to be exactly on the other side of the tree from him and always out of his reach; nor could he slip his head through and in no possible way could he get to use his teeth upon it. Vannada used to say that he felt his teeth “on edge,” so great was his desire to get a good gnaw at that rope; he had no knife to cut it with. He then sincerely regretted that he had made any attempt to rescue himself, believing that when the Indians returned and discovered it they would murder him.

            In this dilemma it occurred to him that his vest had metal buttons on it. He pulled one of them off and with his teeth broke it in two. With the rough edge of this piece of button he succeeded finally in fretting, rather than cutting the cord, which bound his neck. He finally released himself and was once more free. But in such a condition! He was in a wild wilderness hundreds of miles from any human habitation that he knew of, with no clothes save his pants, vest shirt and moccasins, nothing to eat, no gun, no ammunition, no knife, not oven a flint to strike fire with. He had his choice between certain death when the Indians returned and his chances for life in the wilderness. He chose the latter alternative, and started with the determination to reach his friends at Hartford, or die on the way. No human being ever suffered more than did Vannada before he reached Hartford, which he did on the evening of the ninth day after his escape. During this time he subsisted entirely upon berries, roots, nuts, worms, snails and such things as he could find in the woods. For the last day or two he several times despaired of ever reaching his destination, and two or three times laid himself down to die. He was almost famished, and his intimate friends scarcely recognized him. He said that he would stop to rest, or rather forced by the gnawing of his ravenous appetite, would stop to look at a squirrel or a deer and imagine in what way it was best to cook them, and think of times past when he had more than he could eat. He spent whole days in picturing to himself visions of fine dinners, nice delicacies, etc. to eat. He could think of nothing else and when on the ninth day he staggered into Hartford he first asked for something to eat. He was treated very kindly by the people there and his appetite was relieved by small and repeated supplies of soup and gruel at first, and afterwards by meat and bread. It was more than a week before he was allowed to pursue his journey toward home, where he found his distressed family and friends mourning his loss, as they had heard of his capture and of the death of his companions, and they had given up all hopes of ever seeing him again. Vannada, however, lived many years afterward, and was an intimate acquaintance and friend of mine.

Stephen Stateler - Second of Three Articles

Part Two of Three.  The following was taken from the Hartford Herald, published October 30, 1907.

THRILLING ACCOUNT

OF

EARLY TIMES IN GREEN RIVER COUNTRY

______________________________________________

HARTFORD IN THE LONG AGO

_____________________________________________

Graphic Narrative of Dangerous

Travel and Encounters With Indians

_____________________________________

(Continued from last week)

            My situation now was mournfully interesting; I was alone in that trackless forest, two hundred miles from any human habitation that I knew of, with no weapon except my hunting knife, no clothes other than those I had on, no blanket to cover me and worse than all these my gun was gone. I endeavored to ascertain the depth of the river thinking I might possibly dive down and recover it, but judging from the steepness of the bank, the locality, etc., I concluded that such an effort would be folly.

            I left that place with a sad heart and turned my steps toward the spot where Davis and I had constructed our raft, for besides being in the destitute condition mentioned above, I had no provisions and no salt, and I was getting hungry and I remembered that we had left some four or five venison hams at the place where the boat had left us, and I returned there intending to furnish myself with four or five days provisions; but “misfortunes never come singly,” a maxim the truth of which was verified in this instance, for when I arrived I found that the buzzards and wolves had been ahead of me, and had not left me a single mouthful.

            It was necessary now for me to commence traveling. I had heard that there was a station on Green river called Vienna (now called Calhoun) some fifteen or twenty miles from the Yellow Banks (Owensboro) and that there was a trace leading from one place to the other. I determined to make my way up the river to the Yellow Banks and thence out to Vienna. I walked steadily all that day and must have traveled forty miles. I stopped to camp out for the night. I was very hungry and had nothing to eat nor had I eaten anything for more than two days. Although hundreds of deer wild turkey, squirrels, rabbits, etc.  had attracted my attention during the day yet I had no way of killing any of them. At night however when I stopped I was fortunate enough to kill a skunk, or polecat, as I always call it with a stone. I skinned and dressed it as nicely as I could and cooked it over the coals. I made my supper that night off of the polecat but I assure you I have never since that time had the slightest desire to renew the acquaintances which my stomach then formed with that animal.

            On the evening of the third day I arrived at a point a little above the mouth of Green river and made a raft for the purpose of crossing over to the Kentucky side. At this time no land could be seen near the mouth of the river, but, by the most desperate exertions I succeeded in getting my raft across the Ohio, and out into the timber on the Kentucky side, above the mouth of Green river. I worked my wily on the raft for several miles through the timber until I reached the land and then gladly left my raft. A greater portion of the country between the Yellow Banks and the mouth of Green river is low, and most of it was at that time covered with water. Very frequently I came to ravines which it was necessary for me to swim, but I could tell the shallowest places by the tops of cane bushes projecting above the water. I reached the Yellow Banks in safety and spent a clay drying my clothes and watching for a boat. During the day two boats passed down. I endeavored by every manner of means in my power to get the boats to take me aboard but at that time it was dangerous for boats to land on account of the Indians and I was passed by without being noticed. They regarded me as a mere decoy to induce them to land so that the Indians might murder the whole crew, and plunder the boat. This was so frequently done then that it was very seldom a boat ever landed after leaving the Falls until it had passed into the Mississippi.

            The next day I started for Vienna. My breakfast that morning as well as my supper the night before consisted of a “possum” which I had caught. I cooked it without salt or pepper. I ate it with great relish. It was much better than the polecat and I have liked possum ever since that time.

            I started for Vienna, but being cloudy I got bewildered in the woods, and having passed the same buffalo bed three different times I concluded to take out from the Ohio river until I came to the trace leading from the Falls (Louisville) to Nashville, for I had heard of such a place as Nashville but had indefinite ideas a to where it was.

            The night after I left the Yellow Banks I stayed in the flats of the north branch of Panther creek. I found a hollow tree with barely enough dry ground in front of it for me to build a fire. I slept inside of the tree and my fire blazing in front of the opening made it warm. It was cold and raining out so I enjoyed a comfortable nights rest in the hollow tree and left it reluctantly next morning, for I did not know where would be my next resting place, but my spirits were buoyed up at the thought and firm belief that I would,

that day, see some habitation or come across some trace of an human being.

            I traveled on that day, endeavoring as well as I could without a compass to keep a south course. I traveled until late in the afternoon, and was beginning to despair of seeing anything to bid me hope for the better, when suddenly I discovered tracks of cattle in the woods. This comforted me with the hope that I should soon see human faces. In a short time I heard a bell. I left the trace in which I was then traveling and went to find the bell, thinking that the cattle might be at home, but I was disappointed and I could not make them go in any particular direction so I left them and returned to the trace. I wandered on through the water, or flats, until nearly sundown. I was weary, hungry, wet, and cold, and, as I sat resting on a log, I beheld the sun sinking behind the western horizon in all its glorious splendor, and it occurred to me that probably I then saw “my last of suns go down on me.” I determined, however, that I would endeavor to reach the “high ground,” or at least find as dry a place as I could to camp that night. I neglected that day my usual precaution of gathering small pieces of wood, or punk, by which to light a fire at night, and I was fearful that I could not build a fire that evening. I struggled on through the water until I reached the bank of Rough creek, which by the moonlight I could see was quite a good-sized stream. Suddenly, to my unbounded joy, I heard the sound of an ax as if some one was chopping wood on the other side of the creek, and listening, 1 distinctly heard children’s voices at play in the town of Hartford. I had never heard of the place before. I hallooed as loud as I could, but could make no one hear me. I waited very impatiently until everything became quite and made another effort to make myself heard. I succeeded and some one answered me. It was a Mr. Rhoades who ferried me across the creek in a large trough.

            I was as hospitably received us I could have expected under the circumstances. My destitute and ragged condition, my strange garb and appearance, and my almost incredible story made me, as I discovered an object of suspicion. There were at that time twenty-seven families living in Hartford and they were extremely cautious whom they admitted into their midst. This was of course a wise and necessary precaution on account of the unfriendly tribes of Indians that infested the whole surrounding country.

            I spoke but little, however, of myself, but always told the same story when questioned by any one. I spoke frequently and deplored the loss of my gun.

(Concluded next week)

Stephen Stateler - First of Three Articles

On February 10, 2013, I posted an article about Stephen Stateler, which was copied from The Hartford Herald published on December 2, 1891. That article was based on recollections of Mr. Stateler’s daughter. Recently, thanks to Helen McKeown, I found a longer article about Mr. Stateler that had been first published in a Louisville newspaper in 1860, with greater detail about his life. The 1860 article was republished in the Hartford Herald in 1907, in three parts. This is a wonderful look at pioneer life in early Ohio County.

Part One of Three.  The following article was taken from the Hartford Herald, published October 23, 1907.

THRILLING ACCOUNT

OF EARLY TIMES IN THIS

SECTION OF COUNTY

________________________

HARTFORD IN THE LONG AGO

________________________________

Graphic Narrative of Dangerous

Travel and Encounters

With Indians

            Mr. John H. McHenry, Jr., had the following account, published in the old Louisville Journal, dated the first of April, 1860, of early times in Ohio County and adjoining region:

            Sometime in the year 1856 there died in Ohio county, Kentucky, at his residence, six miles north of Hartford, Mr. Stephen Stateler, aged about 86 years. He was at the time of his death the oldest resident of the county, having first gone there the spring of 1790.  He was a man of extraordinary constitution, and the writer of this remembers distinctly to have seem him in the harvest field on the 4^th of July previous to his death, handling a scythe with the alertness of a young man.  He was from Pennsylvania and of German parentage.  His original name was Stradler which, for the sake of euphony, was changed to Stateler.

            The following account of his early trials and tribulations will no doubt be read with great interest by those persons who were acquainted with Mr. Stateler or other persons whose names are mentioned in the narrative.

            In “Collins’ History of Kentucky” there is mention made of several incidents concerning which I have often heard this old gentlemen speak, and from whom, no doubt, that interesting information was obtained.

            Some years before his death he gave an account of his adventures to a friend who wrote them out for publication.  His statement, for the truth of which it is scarcely necessary to vouch, is as follows:

MR. STATELER’S ACCOUNT

          In the winter of 1789 a gentleman by the name of Kendall, who lived in Virginia, had contracted with a man to furnish him with part of a boat load of buffalo meat, and Kendall was to bring barrels and salt down the Kanawha river and take in the meat at the mouth of the river.  I was at the point at which the boat was to start, and, desiring to go down to the mouth of the river, went on board the boat and came down, intending at that time only to the mouth, and, if the buffalo meat had been furnished according to contract, I should not have gone any farther; but, as the meat was not forthcoming, Mr. Kendall was driven to the necessity of proceeding down the river with what load he had, and hired several persons, among others myself, to accompany him, and kill game enough, as we journeyed along, to complete his load.  As we were floating down we discovered buffalo signs and several of us left the boat in a large pirogue to hunt on shore.  We met with ut little success, however, and reached Mr. Kendall in a few days at Louisville.  It was thought by some that buffalo could be killed below Louisville and Mr. Kendall accordingly concluded to pursue his journey and complete his load with buffalo meat and skins below the falls, if possible; so we launched out on the broad bosom of the Ohio on our way to New Orleans.

            On March 17^th, 1790, Levi Whitsell, Samuel Davis and myself left the boat a short distance below “red Banks” – where the city of Henderson now stands – and went on shore on the Indiana side, for the purpose of killing bear and buffalo, expecting the boat to await our return.  We started into the forest, which had scarcely ever before been trodden by a white man, but we had not proceeded far when we discovered “blazes,” which Whitsell said were Indian signs, and insisted on our returning to the boat.  We objected and Whitsell left us. Davis and I, in a short time found buffalo, wounded a fine bull, and in pursuing it were led several miles from the river.  We were very successful in our hunt and did not return to the river until the evening of the third day.  Imagine our horror when we discovered that the boat had left us.

            I afterwards learned that Whitsell had returned to the boat the same evening and reported that we had been killed by the Indians.  Mr. Kendall waited for us until the next morning and, as we did not return, believed us dead, and proceeded on the journey.

            We determined to make raft of logs and follow the boat as far as Diamond Island, hoping to catch up with them at that point.  We commenced early the next morning and, constructing the raft, placed our guns upon it and launched out on our frail, unsteady float into the stream, which, at this time, was very high and turbulent.  A few rods below us was a large sawyer, swaying to and fro, and rising up and down in the river.  We discussed the probability of coming into contact with this formidable enemy before we shoved out and thought we could avoid it, and used our utmost endeavors to do so. But if we had pulled directly for it with all our might we could not have struck it more directly, or with more disastrous consequences than we did.  The force of the current carried us to it, in spite of all our efforts to the contrary.

            As soon as we struck the sawyer, seizing my gun, I leaped from the raft upon it, in order to avoid falling into the river.  The raft floated around and moved down the river.  I called to Davis to land and help me off, but it was impossible for him to do so, and he replied that he “could not to save both our lives.”  In a few moments his raft swept around the bend of the river, I watching him with beating heart.  He waved his hat to me as he passed out of sight and I never saw him again.

            My condition then was indeed fearful.  There was no human habitation that I knew of within a hundred miles of me and I had no hopes of assistance from any one.  Thinking, possibly, some one might be within my hearing, I endeavored to fire off my gun, but the powder was wet and it would not strike.  My next effort, of course, was to reach the shore, and at the same time to secure my gun.  I was some five or six rods from the bank, but I was afraid I could not reach it with my gun in my hand, so I twisted some twigs and branches of the trees within my reach, through the guard of the gun and around the small of the stock, and having secured it in the best manner that I could, I plunged into the river and swam to the shore.  After reaching the shore my next object was to get possession of my gun.  To do this I made a raft of such logs as I could get together in the river, lashing them together by grapevines.  I then cut me a long vine and tying one end of it to the shore and the other to the raft, I shoved out into the river, holding on to the vine, thinking the current would drift me down to the sawyer, and having discovered my gun, I could pull back to the shore by the vine, but unfortunately the vine was not quite long enough for the raft to strike the sawyer.  I reached forward and caught the branches and pulled, in order to reach my gun, which was within a few feet of my hand, but the current was so strong it sunk my raft, so that I was compelled to let go.  Holding on to the vine the current of the river swung myself and the raft slowly to the shore.  I could get no more vines to lengthen the one I already had, so I tried the second time to reach my gun in the same way, but with the same success.  A third and fourth time did I float around with the hope of reaching it, but I was each time disappointed; still my gun was swinging by the twigs.

            By this time it was growing dark and I determined to camp for the night and renew my efforts in the morning to obtain possession of my gun, for it seemed to me that my “stay in life” depended upon the recovery of this faithful companion that hung so tantalizingly before my eyes, and yet not within my reach.

            I struck fire and made my camp between two rocks, and here I spent the night – a very small portion of it, however, in sleep.  During a portion of the night I was engaged in drying my powder.  This I did by holding the horn to the fire until it became warm, and then shaking the powder about until it became cool, and I continued this process until my powder was dry.  I then laid down to rest but my sleep was disturbed by desperate visionary attempts to get my gun.  One, indeed, I succeeded in reaching it, and my joy was so great that I was awakened and beheld by the moonlight my gun still hanging by the branches of the tree on the sawyer.  Slowly and heavily passed the weary hours of that night after the moon had sunk and I could no longer see my gun.  Morning came at last and as daylight was stealing through the trees and clearing the mist from the river, I was revolving in my mind the different plans which had suggested themselves during the night for the recovery of my gun; but when it was light enough for me to see the sawyer I almost sank to the ground when the appalling truth flashed across my mind that the twigs and branches with which I had tied my gun had released their hold, and it had fallen off the sawyer and sunk to the bottom of the river.

            (Continued in next week’s Herald, which gives an account of encounters with Indians and scenes around Hartford, Ky. in the long ago.  Save it for your scrap book.)

MRS. MINNIE (WALLACE) KEOWN

MRS. MINNIE (WALLACE) KEOWN, the wife of JOHN KEOWN, was born in Butler County, Kentucky on October 7, 1895. She was the daughter of W. I. Wallace and Mattie (Austin) Wallace, both of Ohio County, Kentucky. Brother Keown was born in Ohio County, Kentucky, on January 23, 1891, and was the son of N. H. Keown and Isadora (Smith) Keown. They were married on September 27, 1913, on an Ohio County Marriage License, by Pastor Birch Shields. The bride was a member of the Green River Congregation, having been received into its fellowship by Christian Experience and Baptism in September, 1909. She had been baptized by Pastor A. B. Gardner. Her parents had become members many years earlier. Her father had been baptized into the Church's fellowship in August, 1892. The Record is uncertain as to when her mother joined the fellowship. Her father was a member 55 years. Mrs. Minnie Keown has the distinction of being the first woman to ever serve as a Messenger from the Church to the Association. It was in 1948. She attended thereafter in 1950-1954, 1957, 1962-1967, 1969-1970, 1972-1975, for a total of twenty times. But her service as Treasurer of the Church, from November 1950, through August, 1972, for a period of almost twenty-two years was unsurpassed in the Church's history. Also, she served on many Committees of the Church, especially those pertaining to raising funds for the Pastor's Salary, Missions, Building Projects, and the Cemetery Upkeep. 

Although from the Records, Brother Keown was never a member of the Church, he greatly encouraged his wife in her participation in its affairs and attended services with her. The Church Clerk records that on May 9, 1956, Mr. John Keown let the Church have $365.00, interest free, to pay off the debt on a Bus; and, that the Church in appreciation of this had a supper on May 18th following to show it. Mesdames Alton W. Crowe, Hayward R. Casey and Willie (Virgie) Shepherd served as the Committee on Arrangements. Again, it is recorded that, on November 11, 1964, the Church thanked Mr. John Keown for the "hat and coat racks he had made" and put in the vestibule of the 1858-1965 building. The Keowns renewed their marriage vows on their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary, on Sunday, September 29th, 1963. The actual date of the Anniversary was September 27th. The young man who served as the Ring Bearer was Tommy Flener. Brother Keown (b. January 23, 1891 - d. August 14, 1985) and Mrs. Keown (b. October 7, 1895 - d. February 28, 1976) are buried in the Green River Cemetery. She died in her eightieth year and he in his ninety-fourth year. They had no children. Her parents - Willie O. Wallace (1873-1947) and M. T. (Austin) Wallace (1865-1933) - and his parents - N. H. Keown (1864-1952) and Isadora (Smith) Keown (1860-1955) - are also buried in the Green River Cemetery.

A Sesquicentennial History of the Green River Missionary Baptist Church 1836 - 1986, Written and Compiled by Wendell Holmes Rone, Sr., For the One Hundred and Fiftieth Anniversary of the Founding of the Church, 1987.

William Logan Barnard

William L. Barnard, born in Maryland in 1759, died in Kentucky before 1845. In 1797 or 1798, he moved to Ohio County, KY. He served as a private in the Rev. War with the Maryland Militia and was married to Sarah Pigman. He was in Captain Maroney's Company and Colonel Griffith's Flying Camp. William did receive a pension, but his wife and heirs did not. His pension number was S16315. This information is from the DAR Patriot Index. His pension application indicates that he served at Trenton and White Plains and was discharged at Philadelphia after six months. His pension was 20 dollars per year and began when he was 75 year sold in 1833.

He is listed as 81 in the 1840 Kentucky Pensioners Index which would make his birth date more likely 1759. The regular Ohio County census shows him as over age 80 and there is one female, age 20-30 in the household..........also some "free colored females" as well as 2 female slaves. The 1840 Ohio County pensioners list shows him to be 81.

John and Nathaniel Barnard are possible fathers of William Logan as both were residents of Frederick County, Md. between 1749 and 1762.

THE FORMATION AND BOUNDARY CHANGES OF OHIO COUNTY

THE FORMATION AND BOUNDARY CHANGES OF OHIO COUNTY

            This posting is an attempt to educate the readers of this blog regarding the creation and formation of Ohio County and how its boundaries changed from its original size and shape by reason of political changes in the 1800’s.  This is important to genealogical research because some of your Ohio County ancestors might have lived in Ohio County at a certain time and, without moving, found themselves living in another county. Therefore, you would have to conduct your research in two different counties to find all available information.  The changes to the borders of Ohio County were most likely prompted by the citizens who actually lived in those areas; perhaps they were driven by having a better road to a neighboring county seat; or perhaps these changes were more political in nature and were driven by politicians instead of citizens. I have not researched the causes of these changes, but we have to assume it was done for practical or political reasons. You can imagine as settlements were made farther and farther away from the courthouse, it was a great inconvenience for a man to travel a long distance by horseback or wagon to transact his legal business.  This hardship caused a demand for the creation of new counties and courthouses, and happened frequently in the early history of Kentucky, all over the state, and as late as 1939. 

            To understand these boundaries and changes to Ohio County we should start with the beginning. Kentucky was originally part of Virginia and was called Kentucky County.  This is a map showing Kentucky County, Virginia in 1776. 

           In 1780, as shown in the following map, Kentucky County, Virginia was divided into three counties.  Jefferson County, Virginia included the land that eventually became Ohio County, Kentucky.

            In 1784 Nelson County, Virginia was derived from part of Jefferson County, Virginia, to be legally effective the following year, as shown in the following map. This includes the area that later became Ohio County.

              In 1792 Kentucky was separated from Virginia and became a state. As this was done the new Kentucky legislature started the further division of the large counties and Hardin County was derived from Nelson County, legally effective the following year. Hardin County includes the area that later became Ohio County. See the map below.

         Next, in 1798, the Kentucky legislature officially created Ohio County, taken from Hardin County, as shown in the map below.  This was legally effective the following year. Note that Ohio County was much larger then than it is now. Note that Muhlenberg County was created at the same time.

        In 1809 Henderson County was enlarged by taking a small portion of the eastern part of Ohio County. See map below.

         In 1810 Grayson County was formed from parts of Ohio County and Hardin County, as shown in the map below.

        In 1815 Daviess County was formed from part of Ohio County, as shown in the map below.

        In 1829 Hancock County was formed from parts of Ohio County, Daviess County, and Breckenridge County, as shown below.

           In 1830 Daviess County grew larger by taking a small part of Ohio County (too small of an area to show on this map).

         In 1831 Breckenridge County grew larger by taking a small part of Ohio County (too small of an area to show on this map).

         In 1854 McLean County was formed from parts of Ohio County, Daviess County, and Muhlenberg County, as shown below.

          In 1871 Butler County grew by taking a small part of Ohio County (too small of an area to show on this map).  This represents the final change to Ohio County’s borders.

            When researching your ancestors I suggest you try to pinpoint exactly where they lived. Of course the census gives us some information regarding location, but additional information can be gleaned from deeds and tax maps.  Both deeds and tax maps can be found at the Ohio County Courthouse and I have found both offices very helpful; however, it is not something you can do by phone. By combining information from successive deeds from owner to owner and tax maps you can trace ownership to the present time and get accurate knowledge of where someone lived, boundaries of farms, etc. I was able to buy a copy of a tax map that clearly showed the boundaries of my g-grandfather’s farm and get the name of the current owner so that I could get permission to walk across that property. This type of research is not particularly easy, but well worth the effort. Further, there are maps that will aid you. Many different kinds of maps may be found at local, State, or regional libraries, museums, or historical archives. Most local librarians can also help you gain access to local maps. On this page at the upper right you will find a link to nine older maps of Ohio County that I think are interesting (shown as Maps of Ohio County).

        You can also look for maps at these sites:

http://www.usgs.gov/  These are topographic maps, with great detail.  It is the sort of map that you would want to use to plot your ancestor’s farm, for example.

http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/gmdhtml/gmdhome.html       This is the Library of Congress web site for maps.  While writing this I found a 1915 map of Fordsville on this site. It is in two images. If you go to this site (see below) you can click on the map image and then zoom in at various locations by clicking one of the “Zoom In” buttons and then clicking on the map – it will zoom on the place where you click the map. If you do this you can read the names written on the various buildings and see the other detailed information. These maps were created for fire insurance purposes (they are called Sanborn Maps) and they are wonderful for genealogists. Here is the web site for the two Fordsville maps: http://www.loc.gov/rr/geogmap/sanborn/city.php?CITY=Fordsville&stateID=19 

The symbols used on the Sanborn Maps are described here: http://www.loc.gov/rr/geogmap/sanborn/images/sankey22c.jpg

If you are lucky enough to live in or near Louisville you can visit The Filson Historical Society, where you might find a map (or other information) to help you. John Filson created the first map of Kentucky and this organization was founded in 1884.  It has a wonderful library and research center.  http://filsonhistorical.org/

Another source for maps is found here: http://www.davidrumsey.com/ This site is extraordinary.

You probably know about Google maps.  If not, you need to find it and add it as a favorite site. Look here: https://maps.google.com/ Not only is it helpful for research, it is great for vacation planning, etc.  But you might not know about Google Earth. This is different from Google Maps and you have to download the software (free). This was a big help to me when I was planning trips to cemeteries in Ohio County and for finding a family cemetery on my g-grandfather’s farm. When you download Google Earth it will place an icon on your computer, so when you want to use it you just click the icon. Here is the web site for downloading Google Earth: http://www.google.com/earth/index.html

The most current Ohio County road map can be found at this site: http://ukcc.uky.edu/maps/ghm1999/ohio.gif

I’m told that the Ohio County Historical Society has a framed map in their museum that is dated 1886 and that this map shows the names of the owners of the farms throughout the county. You can purchase a copy of that map for $15.00.  Contact the Ohio County Historical Society at P.O. Box 44, Hartford, KY, 42347 – phone 270-232-0086.  The museum is located at 415 Mulberry Street, Hartford, KY.

And the last source for helpful maps is found on the US Gen Archives web site: http://usgwarchives.net/maps/kentucky/

            Good luck with your research.