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           COTTON'S KEEPSAKE POEMS OF VARIOUS SUBJECTS
             By Rev. Judge A. J. Cotton, Philom.

TO WHICH IS APPENDED A SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF THE LIVE OF THE AUTHOR, AND A CONDENSED HISTORY OF THE EARLY 
SETTLEMENTS,INCIDENTS, AND IMPROVEMENTS OF THE COUNTRY, FROM 
THE EARLY SETTLERS THEMSELVES, AND FROM OBSERVATION AND EXPERIENCE IN IT,
FOR THE SPACE OF FORTY YEARS PAST.

CINCINNATI:
PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BY APPLEGATE & CO.,
1858


JOURNAL

Page 370    From Mrs. Barbara Cheek, widow of Nicholas Cheek, now one 
hundred and two years old-the oldest person now living in the county, and 
smart and vigorous still-I learn that the first little shanty ever erected 
by a white man, within the boundries and territory of old Dearborn, was 
about the year 1794; that she and her deceased husband were the fourth 
family.  Mr. George Groves, Mr. Benjamin Walker, father of the Honorable 
Henry Walker, and Mr. Ephraim Morrison, father of the Honorable Samuel 
Morrison, had arrived just before them. Her narration is full of thrilling 
incidents, and, if fully written out, would make quite a volume, more 
deeply interesting than I dare hope that mine will be.  A few poles, set 
up on forks, and covered with bark, constituted their first and lone 
habitation in the wilderness.  Surrounded, both by day and by night with 
"howling beasts of prey," which were held at bay or put to flight by 
"fire and flame" and the use of  "powder and lead," well appropriated and 
applied. The Indians, though withholding "the tomahawk and scalping-knife,"
would seize and carry off any and every thing that might chance to please 
their fancy, either to eat, drink, or wear-would sometimes try to terrify 
and intimidate them by reporting some of their own acts of horrid barbarity
and cruelty.  One time, three of them carried this matter so far, that her 
husband, "Old Nick," as he was familiarly called, could stand it no longer.
His brother, Tavner, being present, he rose up, squared himself for the 
onset, and then, with his bony fist and sinewy arm, felled the main speaker 
at a blow, like a slain bullock, gave him "a good sound drubbing," and then 
ordered him to make tracks soon.  He, forthwith, gathered himself up and 
put out, but shortly after returned with a company of eight, all painted 
as a signal for sanguinary vengeance "Where is Nick?" said they.  
"Gone away." "No, he hid-we must have him," and thereupon they commenced a 
thorough search for him.  Meanwhile the old lady contrived, by sign, or 
signal, or messenger, to inform old Judge Watts, father of Hon. Johnson 
Watts, who had charge of a small garrison, jsut over the river, where 
Petersburgh now stands.  He came to the rescue, with eighteen men - took 
the Indians by surprise, in the midst of their fruitless search, ordered 
them to wash and be off immediately, or take the consequence.  The order 
was promptly obeyed, and thus a tragic and cruel scene prevented.

  I knew Old Nick "like a book;" he was a great, big, double-fisted, 
"knock-down-and-drag-out" sort of a man-the very man for such a daring act 
- rather fight than eat, any time, unless he was very hungry.  These things
occurred just above the beautiful city of Aurora, near by the Great Lick. 
Such, then, was the commencement of the white settlements in old Dearborn.
  Mrs. Cheek also informed me that, at first, they pounded all their corn,
when they had any-lived mostly on game, which was abundant and readily 
taken, together with roots, nuts, and acorns - that she spun, and wove, 
and wore cloth made out of the wild nettle, prepared as we usually prepare 
hemp or flax; and that she also gathered and prepared the materials Herself.
  What do you think of that, girls?  Our pioneer mothers! O, what hardships 
and perils they encountered, as well as did our pioneer fathers in 
settling, and subduing, and improving this county which is now so finely 
cultivated and so beautiful.  Mother Cheek - venerable woman! - is well 
provided for, and lives at her ease with her grandson,Stroder Cheek. 
 Let that suffice.


Barb Boese     barbwire@midusa.net