Battle on the Ohio-Erie Canal

While the Civil War was primarily waged in the South there were skirmishes in Ohio, most notably Morgan's Raids into southern Ohio where a marker stands near a conflagration. But on an early fall weekend along the Ohio and Erie Canal, a battle waged that looked and felt like a step back into the 1860s.

Zoar Village is a living history village overseen by the Ohio Historical Society. Nestled along the Ohio and Erie Canal in northern Tuscarawas County, Zoar was a communal village that existed between the early 1800s and the late 1890s [see previous entry]. When you couple a historic village, replete with Victorian age homes and buildings that have been restored, with a passion for re-enacting the Civil War, you get a weekend unlike any other.

The Battle on the Ohio-Erie Canal puts over 1,000 re-enactors for a weekend encampment in this historic place. Camps were pitched throughout the town and as you walk the streets you could get a sense of real history. This is what many places looked like during those war-torn years. Fittingly the units portraying the north were camped along the northern edges of the village and the rebels the southern and western parts. While walking along one set of tents, marveling at how authentic the scene looked against a home built in the mid 1800s, you still can chuckle seeing a 2008 Mustang parked in the driveway.

What sets this re-enactment apart from many others is the air of authenticity of the village. It feels like this is the way things should look. Even a baby being pulled along in Victorian-age baby carriage did not seem to strike me as unusual. Although later walking through House #1 in the Village and the display in one room of Victorian baby gear (a kind of 1860s Babies R Us display) made me think of checking close to see if one of the carriages was missing.

Walking among the Sutlers (for non-Civil War folks, these are the merchants that trailed armies, selling them the wares they did not get from the Army), the sounds of a fife and drum unit demonstrating their military purpose could be heard wafting among the smells of kettle corn and other modern concessions. Certainly an unusual juxtaposition of vintage and contemporary! The care and detail the living historians take to present both military and civilian life in the Civil War is inspiring. These musicians range in age from elderly to juvenile and are as serious about their reproduction period pieces as any musician is about their modern instrument.

The earthen dam constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers to protect the village from flooding provided terrific theater seating for both demonstrations of artillery and cavalry fighting and the actual battle itself. A demonstration by the Battery A, 1st Ohio Statehouse was a special treat, as the highly polished bronze cannon is one of those on display of the ground of the Ohio Statehouse [see previous entry]. On Saturday night of the event weekend a dusk fire-off was held that provided the equivalent of a fireworks show for spectators. From a distance of about 30 miles I could hear the cannonade in my Stark County home!

It is a rare treat to watch a cavalry demonstration, as re-enacting is expensive enough to do as an infantry unit but a unit with horses brings a new level of cost and care [see previous entry]. The 6th Ohio Cavalry portrays both Yankee and Rebel units and demonstrated several cavalry tactics and manuevers, which was no small feat on the slope of a hill and a small plateau rife with gopher holes.

It is amazing to see how well trained the horses are and can only imagine and the sheer number of these animals used during the actual war. The unit spokesperson who led the public through the demonstration while on his own horse equated the use of the animal to how we treat our cars today. Cavalry horses were worked hard and not necessarily treated any better than the old beat up Chevy in the driveway. It was also neat to see just how much fun the re-enactors had in engaging each other in this demonstration.

The terrain offered a great, albeit condensed, view of how many of the battles during the Civil War played out. A Union skirmish line took on advancing Confederates, who wove through a field of goldenrod to reach the battlefield. The open fields offered a great vantage point to see the tactics of the time. Cannon exploded from the hilly and wooded slopes surrounding the field, adding an air of authenticity from a visual, acoustic and aromatic standpoint.

It is a combination that needs to be experienced: the authentic village hosting authentic living historians. Although it occurs bi-annually, it is well worth a day, if not two, to wander the village, order some bread from the still operating bakery, spend a night in a historic bed and breakfast and absorb all that was during a time very long ago when advancing armies engaged each other not far from a crossroads in America.

- J.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place on the Chagrin River

In 1885, Chagrin Falls blacksmith and artist Henry Church carved an image into massive sandstone rock that sat along the Chagrin River. Feeling the need to artistically represent the hardships that Native Americans had -- and were -- enduring at the time, his sculpture featured a snake encircling a woman. Titled "The rape of the Indians by White man," Church's work soon became known as Squaw Rock (GPS coordinates, map).

Nearly 125 years later the name, and the sculpture, remain. Now a part of the Cleveland Metroparks (the "Emerald Necklace" of parks that encircle the city), Squaw Rock is a part of a short, but tricky, path that skirts the Chagrin River as part of the South Chagrin branch of the Metropark. Nestled in a valley between the cities of Solon, Bentleyville and Chagrin, the South Chagrin Reservation is a popular park that features paved walking trails, bridle paths, hiking trails, an arboretum and plenty of open places for recreation.

The sixth-tenths of a mile loop is not aerobically challenging, but the path along the river is narrow, sloping and unpaved. It is not handicapped accessible, but there are plans to make it so (it is hard to imagine how this will be accomplished). Many like to bring their dogs and/or wade in the shallow Chagrin River, which can be tricky with the shale and sandstone rocks that when wet or mossy can be treacherous footing. What often looks like a good foothold can often be a teetering rock. Despite the mild risk to your health, the location is relaxing. It is hard to fathom that, paradoxically, less than a quarter of a mile in either direction are roads of bustling suburban traffic.

The upper path winds through hemlocks, pine, maples and oaks. The climate of the shaded woods offers an array of wild flowers, ferns and fungus. There are several vantage points along small bridges to view down into the valley. These bridges ford the ditches that nature has developed to drain storm water into the river. At one location you can read signage about the story of the rock with a glimpse over the ridge to the rock below.

Like many other places in Ohio, the geology of the area features jutting limestone and sandstone that time and weather have artistically worn into an array of shapes. Descending the river basin along the carved steps is not difficult in typical weather, but should be undertaken with caution in rain or ice. The paths, however, can lead to a trip or twist of the foot if you are not watching.

Before ascending back to the parking area there is a horseshoe falls area. Dropping perhaps 20 feet or so over a series of jagged shale, the falls cascade more than plunge. It is a popular place for hikers to wade and even attempt a swim. The river is rarely more than half a foot deep in most places, but at the base of the falls there are depths of 3 to 4 feet. A few brave souls sometimes jump from one section of the falls into the river, inadvisable as it would apparently seem.

Squaw Rock itself has survived the elements remarkably well despite being a sandstone facing. While the images today are hard to decipher in photographs, and only a little easier in person, a photo postcard in 1912 reveals the beauty of the work in its relative youth. As the postcard's title shows, even a scant 30 years past its incarnation the site was referred to as Squaw Rock.

But the rock is not without controversy. While part of the region's geographic vernacular for generations, a Cleveland Plain Dealer story in July of 2008 pointed to the reshaping of the American landscape by diminishing the use of Indian pejoratives. Over the last decade over 150 "squaw" names have been dropped in favor of terms less culturally offensive. The use of the word squaw has a demeaning, if not vulgar, history. But there are no plans to change the name of the rock.

That leaves Squaw Rock both figuratively and literally between a rock and hard place. In three separate centuries local inhabitants have used the same moniker for the landmark, firmly entrenching the name in local history. Yet the wider history of the nation, and desires to right the wrongs of cultural insensitivities beckons. The delicate sandstone sculpture has withstood the elements of wind, rain and river, but will it withstand history?

- J.