Jonathan Corbly and His Subdivision

A Baptist minister, the revolution, and our house.

Mount Washington, as mapped in 1922.

One of the first books I was eager to take out from the library was A Village is Born: Mt. Washington, by Stephen B. Smalley, who wrote the thin volume for the Anderson Township Historical Society in 1968.

Here’s a bit about Smalley, from a history of Mt. Washington’s cemetery, written by Julie Rimer:

Mr. Smalley was a science teacher who also worked in WCET educational television beginning in 1959, making him an educational television pioneer. His interests were many and his knowledge was vast in the areas of science, history, and religion. He wrote many books about the history of Mt. Washington and Anderson. He was a meticulous researcher and I first became fascinated with Mt. Washington’s history by buying Mr. Smalley’s books. If you are interested, Stephen Smalley’s books can still be purchased at the Anderson Township Historical Society for a very nominal price. They are filled with fascinating stories and photographs.

The book is protected by a hard temporary cover as the original is paperback and signed by the author himself.

A partial map of Anderson Township, which surrounds Mount Washington.

Three brothers, between 1846 and 1866 transformed the family farm into what we know as Mount Washington. Smalley notes that the intersection of Beechmont Avenue and Corbly Road (depicted above), an intersection that, in 1968, saw 20k cars on a weekday, is the starting point to understand this neighborhood.

Each of today’s four corners, of this important intersection, developed from a separate subdivision of the [150 acre] farm. The farm was subdivided by three sons of the farmer. How did this farm develop into a villages? How was the farm acquired in the first place, and who was the farmer?

The land, originally, was a gift to Robert Morrow, a Virginian who fought in the revolution. A 2,000 acre rectangle was his, but in 1796 the tract was transferred to William Lytle and James Taylor, who worked in real estate. That same year, 300 acres were sold to a Baptist minister: John Corbly, Jr., who paid $1.75 an acre. In today’s money, that’s about $12,510 for the whole plot.

Corbly, Jr. was the son of another minister in Pennsylvania who founded over 30 churches. At the time, westward expansion went through the American Indians, violently. Corbly’s family was massacred, in part, by Indians, but he escaped:

Reverend Corbly does not mention the name of John Corbly, Jr., son of his first wife, in his letter to William Rogers.  The traditional story of John Jr.’s, escape from the Indians has been handed down from generation to generation.  John, Jr., accompanied by his dog, had probably preceded the family to the place of worship, and was somewhere near the scene of the massacre when his presence was observed by an Indian who gave chase as John ran in the direction of the fort.  The following narration is from papers of the late Corbly Garard:

“Fortunately the boy’s faithful dog, a large one, was with him that morning and in his race for life also became an attacking party.  So fiercely did the dog assail the Indian’s leg and impede his progress that the fleet-footed boy make his escape to the fort.  This is the story of his escape so often related by this son who grew to manhood and who also became a Baptist minister.”

The lives of John Corbly and John, Jr., were no doubt saved by the quick action of the men in the fort who hastened on horseback to the scene of the massacre as soon as the first screams were heard.  While some of the men who went out brought members of the Corbly family to the fort, others followed the savages as far as the Ohio River.  When the Indians crossed into hostile territory, it was thought best not to pursue them further.  This closes the story of the Corbly massacre which was one of the most brutal ever perpetrated in this region and of which Mr. Evans writes, “Viewed in all its bearings, it is unsurpassed in enormity by any in the annals of border life…. It is not an incident of traditionary fame merely, but is one that has long since passed into history and is as familiar to the readers of the States as almost any other historic event.”

Jr. arrived in present-day Cincinnati in 1790 with a group of friends, including John Garrard, on a flatboat. They created Anderson Township’s first settlement, Garrard’s Station.

Beechmont, still called “Ohio Pike” east of Anderson in Clermont County, originally was a turnpike, making it an important road. Smalley observes it was also called “Cincinnati-West Union Road”, and when Mount Washington was on its own, it was called Main Street. “Beechmont was a name which did not come into common usage until after the annexation of Mt. Washington by Cincinnati in 1911.”

Corbly sold the bolded part to his friend Stephen Davis and kept the eastern half for himself. He met Elizabeth Fansler, got married, and they had eleven kids. His firstborn son, Stephen, was named after his best friend. Davis had no kids—don’t tell Senator Vance—and willed his land to Stephen Corbly.

The marker for Eastern Hills, formerly an elementary school of that name, is now Sands Montessori school.

We are in Lot #5 of the Corbly Estate. Smalley writes, in part:

Two houses were standing on this lot in 1869. The beautiful brick at 2254 Beechmont, the money today, of the William W. Jordans, was built in 1852 by William Davis Mundell for his bride Pattie Corbly…. The home (2254) was eventually acquire by Louis Le Clere, son of Michael Le Clere and father of Mildred Le Clere Jordan.

This is the last known picture of that address, which is now a Chipotle.

Corbly, Jr. is buried at the the Clough Baptist Cemetery, which is located where his church, founded in 1802, was located.

The Historical Marker Database provides the ending of that church’s story, along with a poem by Samuel Schierloh, Mount Washington’s Post Master:

The last record of a formal church service is dated May 18, 1839, but the building served as a meeting hall for a number of church groups and community gatherings for many years after. It is unknown how long the church remained in use, but a fire, estimated to have taken place in the early 1900s, destroyed the roof of the building sending the “Little Stone Church” into a lonely state of disrepair.

Old Clough Church Yard

Here there is no bell peeling
No vaulted tower
Only the crumbling walls
and a spring flower

No prayer is heard
No audible word
Only the winds singing
And heartbells ringing

April has come again
To this ancient place
With tears of pain
And a smiling face

—Samuel Schierloh