Strange as it might seem, the Pennsylvania Dutch people and the Pennsylvania Dutch language were the most numerous people and the most common language in the early days of our present established Knox Township. West of the center of the township no other but this language was used. During the first decade of the eighteenth century, the capitol village of Knox Township was the pure Pennsylvania Dutch village of Bowling Green, which did not exceed five cabins when at its apex of growth–and has not been able to hold that number for nearly a century and a half. When the hamlet had its first cabin built, by Johanus REIDENOURER, on the northest corner of the crossroads, the place was calleed Bowling Green. When John MILLIGAN surveyed this road, the main highway running north and south was the "Quaker Road," while the newly laid out road running east and west was "the line running between Daniel ARNOLD’s and Martin SWICKARD’s lands to where the road strikes John RIDER’s corner and intersects the Quaker Road, and from thence down the hill to the Town Fork of Yellow Creek."

Bowling Green was a well-known village and hive of industry–the best known for years between Steubenville and East Liverpool. These Pennsylvania Germans were the people who cleared the forests and first tilled this soil; they fought the wolves and built cabins; they manufactured wagons and built a church.

But where are these strange people now–these people of my own blood and faith; why did they come into this wild, howling wilderness; what caused them to change their language and customs, and why, like the fabled Arab, did they fold up their tents and steal away, or did they? Where are the ALTs, BAUERs, ZUDERTs, SOMMERLANDERs, OESTERTAGs, PAINTERs, OESTERHAUS, HAUSHALTERs, MEIERs, KOLBs, FREIDERICHs, FREUNDs and a host of other sturdy Pennsylvania Dutch who settled in the Bowling Green territory in the decade following 1800?

When we investigate, we find another group colonized on Mizers Run, the settlement later being called Salem (now known as Annapolis). Another settled on the North Fork of Connotton Creek–near New Jefferson, which later was changed to Germano, in German township, Harrison County–all embraced in the original Knox Township.

Except for an entirely new group of names, what could be said of one colony could truly be said of all. My people came with the latter group and settled on a branch of Connotton Creek about 1820.

Between 1725 and 1775 these people came from their fatherland and mostly landed in Philadelphia, and liking the decent treatment given them by the Quakers, many of them settled, until several Pennsylvania counties became thickly populated, and thus held their language together for long periods of time. Many of these Germans who came to Ohio were second and third generation of those who fled from Germany because of eternal warfare with surrounding nations, religious persecution and political intolerance. In their native lands they were never slaves, but entirely serfs–never owners, but always renters and workers on the landed estates of the aristocracy.

These hardy, honest, industrious, God-fearing people had several outstanding characteristics; and if one investigates further, he will find that their foundation was caused by sound thinking. Their outstanding characteristic was their desire to emigrate in groups rather than individuals, and this accounts for them holding many of their traditions and habits of living when in their new-found homes. Their lives had been governed by fixed customs from cradle to grave for long centuries. By always living in groups they held long and tenaciously to the ways of their forefathers–this group consciousness they venerated, and the customs, beliefs, superstitions and taboos were slow to disappear–some we still retain to this day.

A second characteristic of these people was that they had no desire for public office–they would rather take orders than give them. They held confidence in their spiritual leader–and the minister was one of their group. He looked out for their material as well as spiritual interest.

Their third custom was, the religious doctrine could emanate from any branch of the Protestant faith, just so the preaching was in German. Their church was a part of their life. The pure gospel must be preached in a pure language.

Although their parents might be emigrees from the Rhineland region of Germany, they usually were from the region between Coblentz and the border of Switzerland, and raised Lutheran Reformed, Brethren, Mennonite or Amish, they sought each other’s company, all went to the same religious services. This was purely for reasons of the same language–a case of necessity and not optional.

Again they were not received with much friendliness by those Americans who recalled the Battle of Trenton one Christmas night in 1776. In a trivial misunderstanding this Pennsylvania Dutchman was very likely to be called "a dirty Hessian" in remembrance of that sober occasion.

This grouping habit worked to the betterment of the Pennsylvania Dutch, and they took advantage of what would seem this selfish attitude. They helped each other in time of trouble and prosperity. They, by thousands of years of background, naturally took to agriculture, but to their disadvantage later, their farm methods were conditioned by numerous signs. They often compensated for these various signs by persistent efforts in cultivation and raised good crops in spite of these hindrances.

Where they eclipsed many other pioneers was that these so-called "dumb Dutch" nearly always had a second trade that he could work at on rainy days or at night, as cobbler, cooper, miller, stone mason, tailor, distiller, shingler, wheelwright, wagon maker and many other side lines.

These Dutch did not take to compulsory education for their children, but believed that a small amount of the elementary branches of education was sufficient. Seldom was a book, except a German Bible, Luther’s Catechism or an almanac, found in the cabin–while the first two might have shown signs of not being used, the latter never received such oversight–for much comfort was found in it.

As many people of all nationalities believed in signs in early 1800–none could exceed the Dutch in this pastime. To them the first twelve days of January rule the year, and if the spring was early, it would be a good fruit year; and if the nut crop was good, the corn crop would be poor. If it rained three times in one day, a frost was sure to follow; besides, a frost always followed forty days after the katydid’s first call. Rain always followed the plow; but if no rain fell on St. John’s Day (June 24th), there would certainly be a long dry spell. A halo around the sun foretold the same dry spell, but a halo around the moon told of wet weather, and the exact days the rain would fall would be told by counting the stars inside the halo.

A Pennsylvania Dutchman would build no fence when the corners of the moon turned up; and the Maryland Dutchman would not build a fence if they turned down.

Many believed a pig could see the wind and gave that as the reason for squalling before a rain; all knew that a horse could see a ghost and that you could, also, if you looked forward between the horse’s ears. If you wanted to wean a calf with the least trouble and noise, you should always back it out of the stable.

Don’t turn the wagon wheel backwards when greasing if you don’t want trouble, and to live peaceably with your wife always enter your new cabin for the first time carrying a gourd of salt and the Bible.

They long believed that soil could never lack the necessary fertility to raise good crops, but when the time for clearing away the forests came to an end, they soon found out that "new ground" was the best soil. It was fully twenty-five years after the Bowling Green settlement that a "forkful of barn manure" went on any field. Many of these broad acres would no longer bring crops as formerly; consequently many of these people moved westward and settled new farms and raised bumper crops.

Now, a century later, these Dutch people as a group are gone. Their language is never heard, and their beliefs in signs is as dead as their little church. Today very few know that they ever lived here, their very names are gone and a pitiful few interested in their past history.

To those of us who knew these people, we rather recall, with some regret, this wonderful evolution that has changed them. We wonder what the magical solvent that made them all Americans could have been–and find it the public school, the great melting pot.

How glibly and fluently they could speak their Dutch on all occasions, and how laughable when it came to the letter "V"–their mouths were never shaped to that letter. It was the Pennsylvania Dutchman’s shibboleth that marked his tribe as plain as Jacob’s coat.

Some of the words we retain today I feel were corrupted by the efforts of these people, who spoke of the reddish, taters, parssnips, ingins, pie plant, snap beans, salat, slaw, schmierkaise and bonaclabber.

Many had this "skeps" or "gums" of bees which they "brimstoned" in the late autumn. Some of these Dutch words like the following were frequently heard a half century ago, a crotz (scratch), furroontzled (mussed), g’warricked (choked), dip (gravy), nixnootzish (good-for-nothing), hinnerferninst (wrong end first), stroobly (tousled), Devils Drek (asafetida).

Even at this late date we hear the command, "Don’t fergit to slop the woots."

These illustrations are not given to in any way cast any reflection on these historically neglected people. At the Civil War period they were lukewarm to the freeing of the slaves and objected strenuously to the war. They all voted one ticket, and many belonged to the Knights of the Golden Circle.