Johnny Appleseed
- JOHN CHAPMAN -
from
"About Bucyrus"
by Dr. Daniel G. Arnold, MD
This county history, as well as many others of Ohio, would be incomplete without mention
of this odd character. His real name was John Chapman and he was born in Springfield,
Massachusetts in 1775. He had, as a boy, a great fondness for nature, wandering far from
home in quest of plants and flowers. He liked to listen to the birds and gaze at the
stars. His tastes were little, if at all, altered in his later years.
It is not known when he started traveling westward or why he decided to plant apple
trees in the wilderness ahead of civilization. He also scattered through the forest seeds
of medicinal plants such as dog fennel, catnip, pennyroyal, hoarhound, rattlesnake root
and the like. As early as 1806 he appeared on the Ohio River with two canoe loads of apple
seeds obtained at the cider presses of western Pennsylvania, and with these he planted
nurseries along the Muskingum River and its tributaries.
At Bucyrus, he planted trees on the lot in the northeast corner of North Sandusky and
Plymouth Road and where a very old apple tree still stood until 1939. There was a spring
on this lot, and other across the street (hospital grounds) where Johnny was said to have
laid on his back in the shade of the trees with his bare feet in the air, willing to talk
religion with anyone curious enough to cross the river to see him. He also planted apples
on the McMichael farm, east of Bucyrus near the river. One of these trees was still
standing about 1939, and tree surgeons worked on it extensively, but a few years later it
died.
One who saw Johnny at Mansfield thus describes his appearance: “John Chapman was a
small man, wiry and thin in habit. His cheeks were hollow and his face and neck dark and
skinny from exposure to the weather. His mouth was small, his nose small, and turned up so
much as apparently to raise his upper lip. His eyes were dark and deeply set in his head,
but searching and penetrating. His hair, black and straight, was parted in the middle and
permitted to fall about his neck. He never wore a full beard but shaved clean except a
thin fringe at the bottom of his throat — the beard was lightly set and very
black.”
Chapman’s nature was deeply religious. He was a regularly constituted minister
of the Church of The New Jerusalem, according to Emanuel Swedenborgian. He was a beautiful
reader and never traveled without several Swedenhorgian pamphlets with him, which he
carried in his bosom, and was always ready to produce and read on request. He never
preached in public but in private conversations would often become very enthusiastic and
arise to expound the philosophy of his faith.
When traveling, he carried a kit of eating utensils including a mush pan which he
often wore as a hat. When spending a night at a house, it was his custom to lie upon the
floor with his kit for a pillow.
He always had money, obtained from the sale of trees. If a settler had no money he
would accept old clothes in payment. He often donated high-priced tea to housewives. His
dress was odd — often in tatters but always clean. Shoes or socks were seldom worn,
but a long tailed coat was often worn. It was made from a single piece of tow cloth with
holes cut for his head and arms.
One time when the first courthouse was being built in Mansfield, a wandering
preacher named Paine, gathered a crowd and was exhorting them when he saw Johnny
Appleseed lying on the ground with his feet propped up on a stone. The preacher
pointed to him saying, “See yon ragged old sinner. Be warned of the paths of sin by
his example.” Johnny rose, folded his hands behind him and said, “I presume you
thank God that you are not as other men?” “I thank God that I am not as
you,” replied Paine. “I am not a hypocrite, nor am I of a generation of vipers.
I am a regularly appointed minister.” “Lord be merciful to me, a sinner,”
said Chapman as he walked away.
After 1838, civilization pressed too closely on his heels and, in 1840, he went
West and lived near Fort Wayne. In 1847, hearing that cattle had broken into one of his
nurseries and were destroying his trees, he started out to view the damage. The weather
was cold and raw with snow flurries. That night he stopped at the cabin of an old friend,
and after conducting family worship, made his bed on the floor as usual. Next morning, he
had a high fever, having developed pneumonia. A physician was called but could do nothing
for him. He soon died. A monument, in his memory, was erected in 1900 in the park at
Mansfield, Ohio, yet his greatest monument is the memory of his kind and lovable
character, his simple faith, and his useful life work. |
