"I am the daughter of Benjamin Cox, and was born in Greene County, Ohio, in 1806, and when about nine years old, my father removed with his family to Findlay, in Hancock County. Our family was the first white family to settle in that county. My sister Lydia, born in 1817, was the first white child born in that county. We lived in a hewed log house, located where the brick residence of the late Wilson Vance now stands, on the south bank of the river, and on the east side of Main street. When Mr. Vance came to the place, we had to move into a log cabin a little east of the hewed log house, into which Mr. Vance took his family."
"When my father settled at Fort Findlay, in 1815, there were eight or ten families of friendly Wyandots living around and in the block-houses of the fort. They tilled two fields, one above and one below Fort Findlay, on the south bank of the Blanchard. Kuqua was the chief, and one of his sons, Tree-Top-in-The-Water, died in a cabin west of the fort before the Indians removed to Big Spring Reservation. New Bearskin, another of Kuqua's sons, lived in one of the block-houses, and the old chief also occupied one of the same buildings. Six or seven miles down the river the Wyandots had another village, which my father sometimes visited. Solomon, who once lived in Logan County, dwelt at the latter village, and often came to our house. We never had any trouble with the Indians who lived upon the Blanchard, and when they removed to Big Spring, Kuqua offered my father a tract of land near the spring if he would go and live with them, but he did not care to go, and refused the kind offer."
"My father was engaged in farming-- if the cultivation of a small tract of cleared land surrounding our cabin could be called farming-- and keeping a public house. Shortly after we came to the place, Hamilton, Moreland and Slight came. Some other families came in, stayed a short time and then left. For to be candid about it, Findlay was not then a very inviting place, whatever it may now be. There were two or three block-houses, and some pickets, the remains of Ft. Findlay, standing when we came. The Ottawa Indians made frequent visits to the place, as it was stated that they were in some way related to the Wyandotts."
My mother, my sister and myself gathered the stalks of nettles which grew on the river bottoms below the town, from which we stripped fiber enough, that on being dressed like flax, was spun and woven into linen to the amount of forty yards, and was made into clothing for the family."
"At one time We-ge-hah, or Tree-top-in-water, son of In-op-qua-nah, a Wyandott chief, became sick, and the Indians believed him to be bewitched by a bad spirit, and sent to Towa-town for Big Medicine to exorcise the spirit. My mother did not like the Indians very well, and never went amongst them much. On this occasion, however, when the Indians sent out their invitations for the great pow-wow my mother received one. It was after much persuasion on the part of my father, and with the understanding that I should accompany her, that she finally consented to attend. When we arrived at the place of meeting, which was a log house a little west of where Judge Cory now lives, we found a few Indians assembled. The Big Medicine and his interpreter occupied the center of the room. The lights were extinguished. The tom-tom was beaten and a great noise and hub-bub was made. The lights were again set to burning, and after a short silence refreshments were passed around. During this time my mother and myself having been seated in the circle which was formed around the room, clung closely together, not a little frightened at the performance."
"The sick man got no better. Big Medicine declared that the young chief was bewitched, and that the witch lived in Browntown, near Detroit, and that the sick man had a bunch of hair in his breast, blown there by th witch, and he must cut it out. He went into a tent alone with the young man, and afterwards produced and exhibited a knot of bloody hair which he pretneded to have taken from the breast of the sick man. he said, however, that just as likely as not the old witch would find out that he had taken it out, and blow it back again, and if he did the young chief would die. The witch no doubt did so, for the young man died. The disease of which he died was no doubt the consumption."
Before we left Findlay, the Morelands, Hamiltons, Slights, Chamberlains, Frakes, McKinnis, Simpsons, Vances and Rileys had moved to the county. Hamilton and some others had started a settlement above the town, and Frakes and the McKinnis' below the town. I was at that time too young and too busy to make the acquaintance of many of these persons. But I shall never forget Susy Frakes-- as she was called-- the wife of Nathan Frakes. Many a day did I spend with them in their cabin on the river side, and I thought Susy the best woman I ever knew, kind-hearted, almost to a fault, hospitable and intelligent."
Mrs. Riley was perhaps the first white person who died in the county. She had been sick with the chills and fever, and had called in the services of a Mr. Smith, a Kentuckian, who pretended to be a druggist, and who gave her medicine which was so effective that she was soon a corpse. So sudden was her decease that it was suspected that a mistake had been made, either in the medicine or in its administering. It was said at the time that Smith had forbidden her to drink water, but such was her intense thirst that she prevailed on two little girls who were left to watch with her, to bring her some, of which she drank freely, and very shortly afterwards was found dead. Of course her sudden death was attributed to the drink of water."
"We removed from Fort Findlay to Maumee in 1823 and the (log) mill had not yet been commenced, but was built the year after we left. The race, however, was dug while we were there. Mrs. Vance had gone to Urbana just previous to the birth of their first child, and Mr. Vance's sister, Bridget, came to keep house for him, but had been with him but a short time when she was attacked by the ague. I went to live with them, and not only cooked for the men who were digging the mill race, and boarded at the Vance's, but I even worked in the race."
"I am now seventy-four years old. I have seen some very hard times, but I have never seen the time that I was not happy and contented."
The above interview is at least partly from Beardsley's History of Hancock County. It has been quoted in part in several other books and articles and this is a compilation of all her quotes that I could find in our family archives.
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