First Burial In Farmer Township Defiance county, Ohio (8 Aug 1932 Defiance Crescent News)

• 

  Nathan Farmer 

    Richard Foote and M.W. Steiburger turned their memories backward to another day and recalled that the first white man buried in Farmer Township was an unknown hunter who died in a cabin on section 9. His partner came through the wilderness to Brunersburg and made arrangement for a coffin with Obidiah Webb, a carpenter of the settlement.

    When negotiation were completed Abraham Webb and William Sittic lashed the coffin to a pole and carried it 13 miles through the dense forest arriving at 3 am to bury the dead hunter in the northwest corner of section 10. 

    The original name of Farmer township was Lost Creek township. The name was changed to Farmer in honor of Nathan Farmer who came in 1833. The Indian name for Lost Creek, was Buck-que-o-ke-uh which means Marsh Creek.

Coming Here By Ox Wagon In 1824 (Defiance Crescent News 21 Sept 1926)

    Mr. F.D. Hockman for the following interesting sketch of the life of one of the early pioneers, who came to the wilds of Northwest Ohio a trifle over a century ago. Author of this sketch is Mr. Hockman's stepfather William Rath, known to many of our readers of maturer years and one of the pioneers of Tiffin township. Mr. Rath passed away in the spring of 1910 at the advanced age of 84 Ed.

    Mr. F.D. Hockman for the following interesting sketch of the life of one of the early pioneers, who came to the wilds of Northwest Ohio a trifle over a century ago. Author of this sketch is Mr. Hockman's stepfather William Rath, known to many of our readers of maturer years and one of the pioneers of Tiffin township. Mr. Rath passed away in the spring of 1910 at the advanced age of 84 Ed

    Grandfather Enos Partee was born in West Virginia June 2, 1794. When quite young he came with his parents to Adams county, Ohio, where he spent his younger years, married and had four children (Hester, Ann, George H, William E, and James), before he decided in  1824 to locate in the wilds of what was then known as Williams county, whither several of his cousins had gone before him.
    Shouldering his trusty rifle, he set out for the Maumee valley country. Arriving here without any means, he rented a piece of ground from Robert Kepler on the Maumee river to raise a crop of corn. Between times he made a living shooting and trapping game which abounded in the dense forest at that time, and the pelts brought him a little cash money.
    Having harvested his corn crop, he started back to Adams county to bring his family, which during his absence had been increased by the birth of an son (Enos) to the new home. The long burden some trip was made in an ox wagon in which the Partee family arrived at Brunersburg on Christmas day in 1824. They spent the rest of the winter in a little cabin near the Kibble Run.

    Having no money wherewith to buy land. Enos Partee and family had to depend on the animals of the forest for a living, but he soon took a "Squatter's Rights" on the farm now known as the Houck farm, built a cabin, cleared off some of the ground and planted an orchard, securing the necessary fruit trees from a nursery on the present Krotz's farm and started by "Johnny Appleseed," who lived among the Indians and planted apple seeds on suitable ground wherever he went.
    After getting his place in shape so that he could properly house and shelter his family, he began to accumulate some money, out of the woods to enter the land at government prices which had to be paid in cash. But before he had sufficient funds to accomplish this, another man stepped in and entered the land from under him and never paid him one cent for all the work he had done on the place.
    At about that time a man named Ephraim Douty settle in Tiffin township on the farm now owned by T. J. Tittle. Mr. Douty's family living in Tiffin Township and being anxious for company, he persuaded grandfather Enos Partee to take a lease of four acres of land on his farm until he could make another start.
    He went there, put up a cabin and again found himself dependent upon the animals of the forest to earn the price of a farm. It was a hard and slow task, but game, such as bear,deer, wolves, otters, raccoon and mink, was plentiful. By hard work and experiencing all the trials and tribulation of pioneer life, he managed to save enough from his game and pelt money to enter 110 acres in Tiffin township, where his grandson Elmer Partee now lives.
    While he was living on the Douty farm, his second daughter, Lovina M. was born. She was the first white child to come into the world in Tiffin township. At that time there were three Indians to every white man in this section. In due time three more children (Phebe, John, and Sarah) were born to Grandfather Enos Partee. With a wife and nine children to support he began to realize what hard times meant, but he never faltered or became negligent or unmindful of his duties.
    For the first five years all the wheat they raised was sick and could not be used, so the family had to depend on corn for their bread. There were no roads, only trails, and they few and far between.
     The nearest mill was at Perrysburg on the Maumee river near Toledo. The river was navigable then, there being no dams to negotiate. The corn was loaded into canoes and then taken to Perrysburg to be ground into meal or flour. Often the trip to Perrysburg and return would require more than a week time.
    One of the greatest difficulties encountered in raising a family at that time was providing the necessary clothing for the children. Part of the time their raiment consisted of furs. Later on, when some of the land had been cleared a few head of sheep were secured. Now grandmother Partee understood spinning and yarn and weaving cloth, they were able to make their own cloth and warm and comfortable garments. Style was, of course a secondary consideration. 
    Wild bees were thick in that section in those years. They were much sought after for their honey. Grandfather Partee at one time sold $60 worth of wild honey, enough to buy a good horse.
    Settlers were so few for years that there was no opportunity to give the children a proper education 
    As the Partee boys and girls grew up they naturally married off. Hester Ann married Henry Brown; George H. first married a woman, whose name I do not recall, and as his second wife Ann Gurwell; William E. married Sarah Wisler; James married Elizabeth Benner; Lovina M. married William Rath and at her death left seven children; Phebe married Wellington Anson; John E. married Sarah Ingle and Sarah married Franklin M.R. Winans. 
    Grandfather Enos Partee married a second time, his second wife's name was Catherine Entz. She was a very good, religious old lady. It may be said that Enos Partee, too was a faithful and every honest man found a welcome at his home. What the number of children and grandchildren is, I am unable to say. But all his children have gone on to the life beyond, unless it be Enos M. concerning whose later life I have no information. 
    Grandfather Enos Partee in his old days reaped an abundant harvest from the toll of his earlier days, for he had a comfortable living and had added 80 acres to his original farm. He departed this life April 5, 1876, at the ripe old age of 81 years, 10 months and 3 days. 

    Grandfather Enos Partee was born in West Virginia June 2, 1794. When quite young he came with his parents to Adams county, Ohio, where he spent his younger years, married and had four children (Hester, Ann, George H, William E, and James), before he decided in  1824 to locate in the wilds of what was then known as Williams county, whither several of his cousins had gone before him.
    Shouldering his trusty rifle, he set out for the Maumee valley country. Arriving here without any means, he rented a piece of ground from Robert Kepler on the Maumee river to raise a crop of corn. Between times he made a living shooting and trapping game which abounded in the dense forest at that time, and the pelts brought him a little cash money.
    Having harvested his corn crop, he started back to Adams county to bring his family, which during his absence had been increased by the birth of an son (Enos) to the new home. The long burden some trip was made in an ox wagon in which the Partee family arrived at Brunersburg on Christmas day in 1824. They spent the rest of the winter in a little cabin near the Kibble Run.

    Having no money wherewith to buy land. Enos Partee and family had to depend on the animals of the forest for a living, but he soon took a "Squatter's Rights" on the farm now known as the Houck farm, built a cabin, cleared off some of the ground and planted an orchard, securing the necessary fruit trees from a nursery on the present Krotz's farm and started by "Johnny Appleseed," who lived among the Indians and planted apple seeds on suitable ground wherever he went.
    After getting his place in shape so that he could properly house and shelter his family, he began to accumulate some money, out of the woods to enter the land at government prices which had to be paid in cash. But before he had sufficient funds to accomplish this, another man stepped in and entered the land from under him and never paid him one cent for all the work he had done on the place.
    At about that time a man named Ephraim Douty settle in Tiffin township on the farm now owned by T. J. Tittle. Mr. Douty's family living in Tiffin Township and being anxious for company, he persuaded grandfather Enos Partee to take a lease of four acres of land on his farm until he could make another start.
    He went there, put up a cabin and again found himself dependent upon the animals of the forest to earn the price of a farm. It was a hard and slow task, but game, such as bear,deer, wolves, otters, raccoon and mink, was plentiful. By hard work and experiencing all the trials and tribulation of pioneer life, he managed to save enough from his game and pelt money to enter 110 acres in Tiffin township, where his grandson Elmer Partee now lives.
    While he was living on the Douty farm, his second daughter, Lovina M. was born. She was the first white child to come into the world in Tiffin township. At that time there were three Indians to every white man in this section. In due time three more children (Phebe, John, and Sarah) were born to Grandfather Enos Partee. With a wife and nine children to support he began to realize what hard times meant, but he never faltered or became negligent or unmindful of his duties.
    For the first five years all the wheat they raised was sick and could not be used, so the family had to depend on corn for their bread. There were no roads, only trails, and they few and far between.
     The nearest mill was at Perrysburg on the Maumee river near Toledo. The river was navigable then, there being no dams to negotiate. The corn was loaded into canoes and then taken to Perrysburg to be ground into meal or flour. Often the trip to Perrysburg and return would require more than a week time.
    One of the greatest difficulties encountered in raising a family at that time was providing the necessary clothing for the children. Part of the time their raiment consisted of furs. Later on, when some of the land had been cleared a few head of sheep were secured. Now grandmother Partee understood spinning and yarn and weaving cloth, they were able to make their own cloth and warm and comfortable garments. Style was, of course a secondary consideration. 
    Wild bees were thick in that section in those years. They were much sought after for their honey. Grandfather Partee at one time sold $60 worth of wild honey, enough to buy a good horse.
    Settlers were so few for years that there was no opportunity to give the children a proper education 
    As the Partee boys and girls grew up they naturally married off. Hester Ann married Henry Brown; George H. first married a woman, whose name I do not recall, and as his second wife Ann Gurwell; William E. married Sarah Wisler; James married Elizabeth Benner; Lovina M. married William Rath and at her death left seven children; Phebe married Wellington Anson; John E. married Sarah Ingle and Sarah married Franklin M.R. Winans. 
    Grandfather Enos Partee married a second time, his second wife's name was Catherine Entz. She was a very good, religious old lady. It may be said that Enos Partee, too was a faithful and every honest man found a welcome at his home. What the number of children and grandchildren is, I am unable to say. But all his children have gone on to the life beyond, unless it be Enos M. concerning whose later life I have no information. 
    Grandfather Enos Partee in his old days reaped an abundant harvest from the toll of his earlier days, for he had a comfortable living and had added 80 acres to his original farm. He departed this life April 5, 1876, at the ripe old age of 81 years, 10 months and 3 days. 

Old Times Again ( By B.F. Enos) Defiance Democrat 17 March 1892

    As I took a seat in the west bound B&O limited, old gentleman, who with  his aged partner, occupied the seat immediately behind me, reached forward and asked, "Is this Fort Defiance?" I nodded an affirmative. He smiled, saying, "There's a right smart of change in this village to what she was in 29 and 30, aint they, mother?" and turned to the old lady behind him. "I should reckon there is, Silas. Lets see how many years is it since we left this section; 65 years this coming May, Silas, we yoked up the old ox team and started for Illinoy. "Did you live in Defiance, I asked?" "No, we never lived in this village, though we did most of our trading there and mother, here, would walk to town once or twice a year during the good goin in the summer."

    When did you come to Defiance county? I asked. "I never came to Defiance county, young man. There was no such county around here, and I have been away so long I cannot recall the name, but I think it was Williams, wasn't it mother?" I can't recollect, I am sure, but something like that," she replied. As the train pulled out from the station the old gentleman's eyes were anxiously taking in the surrounding country, while he kept a rapid conversation with his wife and as we crossed the river at the Bend he asked, "what river is this?" It is the Maumee river, said I. "Why, said he, I thought we cross that stream back at the village of Fort Defiance." I told him that was the Auglaize, and this stream at this point is some seven miles west of Defiance. "well I declare, what do you think mother, we must be some where mighty near Newburg." "I wonder how that town looks now. If she has grown anything like Fort Defiance she is quite a town now." Newburg, said I, there is no such place in this county. "Oh yes there is young man, said the old lady, we were living on our clearing at the Montgomery Evans surveyed off the plat.  A man by the name of Arrowsmith was the surveyor. "I remember well the days they spent there and how undecided they were as to forty would be the best. I cooked for the men and I shall never forget, how surprised Mr. Evans was at our fine (as he called it) meats, our coffee made from the burnt crust of johnny cakes, our home made horminy, in fact all our food was home made those days, spoke up the old gentleman. 
    "Do you remember the evening the men finished the survey, mother, how Evans and me got pretty jolly over several noggins of your home-made ale? and he broke his Jacob's staff helping me roll in a fresh back-log for the fire."
    The old lady nodded a smiling recollection and said, "yes I remember more that took place that evening, and I can hardly forget how sick you were the next day. 
    Do you remember the old wooden bowl, the only one we had? He broke it trying to spin it on the point of his Jacob's staff." The old gentleman chuckled, and seemed to enjoy there pleasant reminiscences. 
    I handed the old gentleman my card and he with a pleasant smile; "I have no card with my name wrote onto them," but I can tell it to you; "My name is Silas P Gregg, and I was born in Maryland, on the 22nd day of August, 1799. My father's name was Joshua J Gregg, and my mother's name was Janet Wolff." "I should very much like to hear some of your early experiences," said I, "and if you ever smoke, let us go forward to the smoking car." "If he ever smokes" said the old lady. "I don't know when I have seem him without his pipe for so long a time as since we got aboard the keers." I don't  see you standing it, Silas? "We'll, you mother, I ain't used to these new fangled ways of doing things, and I was afraid to fill up my pipe for fear of getting into trouble and besides I found plenty to draw my attention looking out the window but if the young man has a extra, segar I don't mind if I do go along with him to the smoking car for a while."
    As we got up to go forward the old lady cautioned him, "to be very keerful about walkin over the platforms of the keers and don't fall off fer mercy sakes, for if you do, hurt, yourself and ruin your clothes just as likely as not." "Now do be very keerful."
    When we got seated and the old gentleman had his segar well lighted he said, "N ow you want to hear something of my early life. Well when my father moved from Maryland he came with a party of five other families to Northampton county, Pa., and remained there until his death. At his death I was 12 years old. There were four boys and seven girls of us and mother was soon discouraged and in a less than two years she followed father. After her death the family was divided, some of us began shifting for ourselves and several of us were kindly taken in to some of the neighboring families. I made my home with a family by the name of Flood. I lived with them until the fall of 14, when a party of young men forming to move west and I joined them.
    "We landed in Detroit in the spring of 15, and I remained there for several years. I was quite a hunter in those days and made considerable money trapping and hunting. A man by the name of Sam Stockbridge and me worked together the winter and spring of 16 and 17, and our pelts brought us over $700, which we divided, and that summer I branched out for myself. In the fall I returned to near Detroit and met my wife. Her father was a sailor. He owned and run a small vessel between Detroit and Buffalo, and I made several trips with him in the summer of 1820, but, I never could get used to the water and in the fall of 1820 I married his daughter Mary. We lived in Detroit until the following summer, when another family, we concluded to settle in the Maumee Valley, but just where we did not know, and after some little time we finally located at Waterville. I kept a sort of store and tavern there for several years. Two children, were born to us there but both took the milk sickness and in 27, and shortly after I moved from there to Ft Wayne, which at that time was not much of a place, yet it had a very nice brick school house, church and public house all in one. In the spring of 29, I put all my provisions aboard a pirogue and started for Waterville, in tending to settle there for good, but as we floated down the river, one of our children took sick, and we tied up at or near where Newburg (Defiance county) was afterwards laid out. I never saw such rich bottom lands as were opposite the site of that town, and in those days there was quite a little Indian village on these bottoms. We were kindly taken care of there and when our child was well enough to travel, the water was so low our boat could not float over the riffles, so we concluded to remain and try our luck there. I bought sixty acres of land from the Evans boys and began chopping off a spot for our cabin. We were given every encouragement by the few white people of the neighborhood, and in a short time we became reconciled and I believe we were really happy. A White man by the of Moses Taylor, was our nearest neighbor and he lived about three miles up the river from our place. There were several white families in the neighborhood, and across the river from our home was the camp of a small band of Moravian christian Indians. My wife could not stand the tricks of the Potawatamie and other other roving bands of Indians, and in the spring of 35 we again pulled up and emigrated to Illinois, where we now live.
    What induced  us to go in the spring was the deviltry of the band of Potawatamie, who were up to all sorts of tricks and meanness, and would take possession of remote settlers cabin, and compel his wife to cook for them, turn the family out of doors, sleep in their beds and if they saw anything they wanted would appropriate it and marching off, leave the settler and his family in many instances, entirely destitute.
    The thing that precipitated our moving was the assault made on the wife of a neighbor Hanna who lived on the bottoms about four miles up the river from Newburg. The women Mrs. Hanna and her daughter a young lady of about 18 years, were in the field working and a band of drunken Indians coming up, them, and drove them to the house which they didn't reach in time to bar the door, and the devils throwing themselves against it burst it open and attempted to enter but were met by Mrs. Hanna who kept them out by standing in the door and swinging an ax before their faces. One of them fired a shot and struck her hand but she got even by striking one of them a blow on the head which fell him to the ground. By this time her daughter came to her aid and while the devils were looking after their injured pardner the two women succeeded in barring the door and managed by a careful and closed watch to keep them away until the continued firing of their guns brought some hunters and neighbors to their rescue. The Indians fled on the approach of the neighbors, (all but two who were so badly wounded they could not,) and were pretty roughly handled by the boys. Two were killed, and one or two were wounded. The two who were unable to get away were finished by Mr. Hanna on his return home in the evening. 
    Such occurrences were quite common in those days, The people seemed to care but little, and soon the circumstance would pass from mind and the solitary and monotonous life of the pioneer continue only now and then to be interrupted by a similar outbreak of some band of savages.
    My wife couldn't stand it, and she declared she would start for Detroit on foot and alone if I would not go with her, so we moved again.
    I do not remember the name of the early settlers there. It has been a long time you know;; let's see 57 years ago this spring we left. Oh, yes, I remember the Hilton's, they used to live west of Defiance on the river. But I guess mother will be anxious to see me; its kind of lonesome riding all lone you know and we have talked a good deal, I think I will go back to her for a while. If you are going far I may smoke another segar with you.

Jack The Chaser (Defiance Democrat 10 Sept. 1891)

    More particularly on the north side of the river, but on some occasions in other parts of Defiance during the past three or four weeks an unknown man has been chasing women who happened to be on the streets after dark unaccompanied by male escort. To such an extent has this vicious practice been carried on that a reign of terror has been created in certain neighborhoods on the north side, many women not daring to venture on the streets after dark. In one or two cases we are informed he has caught his victims and attempted to tear off their clothing, but the assaulted parties have thus far escaped without serious injury.

    From a talk with policeman Rath, we learned that he had heard of these depredations and had been on the lookout for the villain, but he says the man (or men-he thinks there two of them-) appear to watch for the officers and never make a raid when it is possible to get caught in their vile practice. 

    So far none of the women chased have been able to recognize the man. He appears to be a stranger who is not seen during the day time. Some believe him to be of unsettled mind. While committing these depredations he does not talk but simply runs after his victims to catch and grab them.

    It is a subject of sufficient moment to cause a thorough investigation by police authorities for it is destroying the peace of mind of many ladies of the city with whom it is occasionally necessary or convenient to be on the street after dark. If necessary there should be a grand circle hunt organized to capture "Jack The Chaser".

Raided The Ranch {Defiance Weekly Express 6 Feb 1894]

    The entire police force of Defiance put themselves stealthily to the southern portion of the town and descended in body on the old grist mill looking building, vulgarly called the shot tower. 

    This house has an unsavory reputation and is presided over by Jane Taylor, who has figured in police court episodes on driver occasions and then some.

    When the blue-coated guardians of the public peace gained an entrance they found the madam, Nora Thrallkill and another young woman who is registered at the station under the somewhat stagy name of Josie Golding. These women were entertaining three strangers who gave names that are understood to be fictitious. They are stranger in the city.
    The whole party were placed under arrest and will have a hearing before the mayor.

The Meanest Yet (Defiance Democrat 2 July 1846)

    An ordinary chicken roost marauder is a villain despicable enough. But meaner yet is the one who, the other night stole our little girl's pet pullet, "Toppy." May not "indigestion follow;" may conscience, loaded with so mean an act, do its work, and repentance follow. If he don't change his course, he'll end his career on the gallows or in the penitentiary, for the villain's in him. A theft of a hen, or even the old rooster, would have only been a matter of the value thereof, but of "Toppy," it amounts almost to a affliction.

Dr. David M Milholland Junction Doctor (Defiance Crescent News 24 Feb 1933)

Dr. Milholland  grave Old Riverside Cem. Defiance, Ohio

    Dr. David M Milholland, a physician of Auglaize towmship, Paulding county, now in his 76th year, thinks that his nationality has much to do with his long years of service to the folks of his community.

    He says that his mother once told him that he was three-fourths Dutch and half Irish.

    According to this veteran doctor, every old-fashioned rural physician was compelled to mingle with his medicine a more or less free nursing service. 

    In fact, this good doctor was rather fatigued, after spending the preceding night in a chair by the side of a restless patient.

    Dr Milholland says that doctors are very human folks. They do not become hardened through their years of service, as many folks imagine, but look forward to the brief time they are allowed to visit with each patient, and none mourn their passing more than he who assuaged their pain.

    Starting his practice at Junction nearly half a century ago, the doctor's first means of locomotion aside from his pedal extremities was an old Rudge bicycle, with a high wheel in front; and a small one at the back.

    Many a modern driver, said Dr Milholland, would have stood aghast at the prospect of sending this unique vehicle with its fifty inch front wheel down among the stumps of crude paths called roads. The doctor would not go on record as not ever having had to dismount quickly and involuntarily, but said that his bruises were always minor and nothing occurred that really could be called a traffic disaster. 
    It was six months before he was able to acquire a good horse, but during this period something, which Dr. Milholand attributes to a act of Providence, occurred. There were no death in the community.
    Contents of the pioneer doctor's pill-box included first of all quinine for malaria; arsenic, potassium bromide, sweet spirit of niter, nitrate of silver, carbolic acid, jalap, calomel (mercury chloride), aconits, sulphur and black antimony. 
    Humor enters the lives of all doctors. Imagine the young doctor proudly traversing the rutty roads in his first new buggy, meeting a team and wagon coming at top speed down the bumpy thoroughfare. 
    The doctor found that a case of lock-jaw had met him on the way, at least the members of the family seeking assistance considered it such. The doctor stepped from his buggy to the wagon (they were of equal height) and quickly manipulating his fingers succeeded in adjusting a dislocated jaw. The women was profuse in her thanks and said that if she'd known it was that easy to close her husband's mouth, she'd have shut him up long ago.
    Dr. Milholland is a bachelor. His headquarters seem to be wherever you may find him. The quickest way being to get in touch with a patient he has visited and then keep consistently on his trail, for he says that he's got to the place where most of his business is rural appointments. 
    Some years ago, he moved his office Sidney. A year later he moved to Kempton, Allen county. While at this place he one day received in the mail in a bulky letter which contained a petition requesting his return to Junction. The petition bore the signatures of 200 of the village's 230 inhabitants.
    While the doctor was debating the matter of returning to place his service at the disposal of his first patients, Ike Hardesty and Dwight Columbia, drove up to his office with a team and wagon each and announced that Dr. Molholland was returning to Junction.
    He has no regrets over his return to the Paulding county village. He says it's a fact that the 30 who did not sign the petition lived to an age equal or superior to that of the signers.
    He's had many odd, interesting, painful and pitiful cases. He has treated a man who had his nose bitten off by a vicious horse,set the bones of many unfortunates caught beneath falling trees, a man whose leg had been cut off by a saw that whirled from its shaft. He says that cuts made by saws are cruel and difficult to treat.
    Some years ago Dr. Milholland bought 40 acres of sump land adjoining Junction. He rents the land to tenants. Because honey is the cheapest and best ingredient obtainable for furnishing the syrup of cough syrup, he keeps a goodly supply of bees. 
    Doctors as we have said are human, they worry about their cases. Believe it or not, there are times when their nerves are all unstrung because they actually do not know what to do. Such situations are hard on doctors who should be fit to answer any call day or night.
    But the bachelor doctor found a way to quiet quivering nerves and assure a full night's rest simply go out to the wood lot and dig out a stump.
    Dr. David M Milholland was born on 5 March, 1858 in Ohio, his father George Milholland and mother Mary. He had four brothers and two sisters. He died on 30 December 1939, in Toledo, Ohio, at the age of 81.