Jeremiah Meek Journal


A Short Sketch of the Life of Jeremiah L. Meek, Sen.

(Printed in the Palladium December 13, 1866
Written in 1837 by Jeremiah Lee Meek, son of Jacob Meek born 1755)

Having briefly announced the decease of our old friend Jeremiah L. Meek, Sen. in the Palladium, of Nov. 16th, we applied to his son, Morton Meek, for some ----- in his career, so that we might publish them, and ---- --- --- in the memory of one of the “old landmarks“ of our county as part of its history. Mr. M. informed us that his father had himself written a brief sketch of his early life, which was among his papers, and he would hand it to us when found. He accordingly handed us the following:


I was born in the State of Pennsylvania, on the waters of Jacob’s Creek, in the year of 1780; near the close of the Revolutionary War. In the course of that year my father bought land about twelve miles from Pittsburg and moved to it the same year. In the month of June 1792 he sold out with the view of going to Kentucky. By the last of November he had built a flat boat and was ready to start. He took on board two other families beside his own. There were six in all who were able to handle a gun—all the rest were women and children. My father was Captain of the boat and they all started for Kentucky. The boat was managed by oars and was built four feet high from stem to stern with two inch oak planks so that a rifle ball would not go through its side. We glided along night and day—only stopping long enough to take on wood and always keeping a sharp look out for Indians, who were prowling about and who made two attempts to capture the boat, in the dead hour of the night, by getting out in the middle of the river on their rafts, thinking the boat would run near enough to them so they could shoot into it. Father would put the lights out—make the women and children lay down along the inside of the boat—put the young women and boys at the oars, and himself taking the steering oar, he would square off and run around the Indians rafts and as they could not move them fast, they were thus eluded, and we arrived safely to the place where Cincinnati is now located. There we found a block house containing five men who were guarding the frontier.

We here left the Ohio and went up the Licking River as far as Cynthiana where father had a brother-in-law residing. We spent the winter there and in the month of March 1793 he moved out to the extreme frontier where his brother, John Meek, had built a station. There were at this station seven families—each family had their house built in block house style with port-holes on every side so they could shoot in every direction in case of an attack on the station by Indians. Each man had his piece of ground to clear and they all worked together until each man had his days work—uncle John and father standing sentinels for them.

Uncle John had a large yellow dog who rejoiced in the name of “Keeper”. He could smell an Indian two miles or more, and when “Keeper” would go to the woods and begin to bark, all hands took it as a signal of danger—the men would pick up their guns and come in and consult what would be best to do. That dog would keep opposite the Indians as they would creep around until they would get clear out of his scent and then in a few days we would hear of some person being killed in the settlement where the people were less on their guard than we were.

I was then a mere boy and many a night did I lay up in the block house loft and tremble to hear my father up all night watching from one house to the other--my step-mother, with a gun in each hand so that when father emptied one she could hand him another. The Indians frequently drove our horses into the door-yard caught them and took them away. Buffalo, deer, bear, wild turkey and raccoon was all the meat we ate there for three years. The children all kept close quarters, fearing the Indians would pick them up and take them away. Boys of my age had to grind corn on the hand-mill for all the bread that was used. It was seldom that the men went to the mill for the Indians were always watching the roads in the dusk of the evening-they shot and scalped several men. Out of Meek's Station not a man was lost.

In the month of November, 1806, I left my father's house in Kentucky and came to Ohio with the widow Grimes' family, and spent the winter on old Judge Lytle's farm, situated on a creek called "Seven Mile." Sometime in the latter part of the winter, I heard that father had sold his farm and moved to Whitewater and wanted to see me. So on the first day of April, 1807, I started for Whitewater traveling all day through a very heavy snow storm. That night I staid with a man by the name of Waid, who -lived near where Aaron Shute now resides, just in the edge of Ohio. Next morning I started on through a very deep snow-the road being unbroken I had to follow the “blazes" until I arrived to where Daniel P. Wiggins' now lives, and there I found my brother, John Meek living in a cabin on the north side of the road, lately bought by Wiggins. From thence I went to father's--he was then residing in a small cabin near a good spring on the farm lately owned by Alexander Grimes. My father had a burying-ground there, a few rods west of the barn, where several people were buried.

That Spring I cleared about six acres of ground--cut and split rails and fenced it in--rolled and burned the logs-plowed and planted it, with very little help all by the first of June. Then Elijah Fisher and myself started with five horses through the-woods for Lawrenceburg to procure bread-stuff for the season. Over night we would have to cut brush and make a pile to lay our blankets on, in order to keep the snakes from coming to bed with us--spanceling our horses so they could pick grass and not go far from us. We arrived at Lawrenceburg and back in seven days, with five-horse loads of corn-meal which lasted until corn came in the fall, and was sufficiently hard so we could grate it for mush and bread. In addition to this we had potatoes, squashes, &c., wild meat was also abundant, and father was a good hand with a gun, so that we did not lack for meat.

About this time I started back to Ohio, and on the 14th of the month I got married and returned that fall and built a small cabin on eighty acres of land that father had entered for me, where Samuel Coale lately lived. On the 22nd of March, 1808 I moved into it. That spring I cleared five acres of land-fenced it in--rolled the logs and burned them and the brush--assisted my neighbors eighteen days to do their work, in order that they might assist me. I raised corn to spare that season. I worked on there until fall of 1809, and then I sold to old Joseph Charles--he giving me $250 for the improvements, and $40 that it took to enter the land. I then bought one hundred acres from old John Smith, three miles east of Richmond, for which I gave him my notes for three hundred dollars in payment. My wife went to her mother’s and I went to work on the land just bought. Winter coming on, I soon cut logs and put up a stable in which myself and horse lived until I had hewed logs sufficient to build a house. The house was not ready to move into until nearly Christmas. The snow was then quite deep and being scarce of feed I had to cut down beech trees for my cattle to browse upon. I set about closing in my ground and by the next planting time I had four or five acres ready to plant. That was the spring the mice were so plenty that the boys could kill one hundred and fifty of a night by laying meal on the sills of the house and taking sticks and striking them as they were eating it. They took up all my corn and the consequence was I did not raise any. By taking a light out at night these troublesome pests were so thick that we could kill them with our feet. I raised that season however a fine crop of pumpkins.

I worked on until the 13th day of March 1811. On that morning I went to Pool’s to pay him for a days work I owed him and when I went to dinner I found that my wife who had become lonesome had come up to pass off the day with her two small children—leading one and carrying the other. When starting to work I told her she had better return home before night with the little ones. She accordingly started and went on until she came in sight of the house, which she found to be on fire. Leaving the children on the patch she ran back to call me—hearing her voice I dropped my axe and ran to her, when she told me our house was in flames. I told her not to faint and ran on until I came to where she had left the children—one of whom was lying on the ground and the other was sitting by it—both crying. I left them and soon came to my burning house. It was the hottest fire I believe I ever witnessed—there was not a piece of pot metal about the house that had a natural shape—some pieces were literally melted. I went back to where I had left my children and met my wife, and after sitting a short time we went back to the house and looked over the ruins until dark. I proposed to her that we had better go to Jesse Hill’s as his was the nearest house and he had been married but a short time and had built a small cabin in the woods. Here we were treated very kindly, and they did all they could to alleviate our troubles. I again returned to our desolate home—took my horse and went off to let my neighbors know the misfortune that had befallen us, and returned to Jesse Hill’s about bed time. That night was a lonesome one for both of us. We laid on the floor of the cabin with one or two covers under and one over us, and each of us had a child in our arms. Next morning the friends and neighbors came in and by night we had another cabin built and covered. I then stuck forks in the ground and laid pieces across, on which I placed clapboards. I then bought as much tow-line as made a bed tick—filled it with straw on which we slept all that summer.—The friends and neighbors assisted us to such things as they had to spare. During the summer I concluded to sell out; and as Jesse Morris had come out in search of a place I met him and sold out to him for the sum of Three hundred and fifty dollars. Then I thought I had money enough to pay out for a quarter section of land and as old John White had entered a quarter five years previous which had reverted to the United States I bought his certificate for which I agreed to make him a deed for fifty acres in the southeast corner of said quarter, in case I could get it entered in my own name. On the 15th day of April, 1812 I went to the land sale at Cincinnati and being the highest bidder the quarter was knocked off to me by a man by the name of Baum Slow. I moved on the place I had purchased in the fall of 1811, where I lived until the present year(1837) and on which place I raised a family of nine children.

In the fall of 1811 the clangor of war began and in 1812 came the declaration of war. The Indians being well acquainted with the settler began to be very troublesome. Quite a number of the neighbors moved away in order to get clear of danger—whilst others staid and fought it out until the war came to a close.

I will relate a little incident that occurred in the summer of 1813. I hired a young man by the name of John Kirk to work for me. One day we heard a good many guns firing off towards the west of us.—We listened to the reports with considerable anxiety, and they seemed to approach nearer. I told the young man to load my musket, whilst I would hide some of my property in the woods. Then I requested him to take my wife to father’s where we had a block house built and I would take a horse and ride over the river and see what was the matter. They started and jumping on my horse I galloped across the river. I then got off—tied the horse at the foot of the hill and watched closely, I crept up to the top of the hill where I could see a considerable distance toward the west. I slipped behind a tree, and in about five minutes, I beheld a man a long way off coming towards me—watching pretty closely I soon discovered that it was old Nathaniel McClure. It seems that the old men, about 10 in number, had went out to see how the young men were coming on at the block house where they were stationed, and having got their guns wet at arriving at Salisbury, they all started for their homes, and as they went they were shooting off their guns which was the cause of the alarm. I got on my horse and came back to my house in haste—sat down my gun and started off to bring back my wife. I overtook her in sight of father’s walking along slowly. I asked her what had become of Kirk and she said he had left her as soon as they had got out of sight of the house and we never seen anything more of him for eighteen years after, when he informed me that he did not sleep until he crossed the Ohio river!

I came to this part of the country poor with only a horse, saddle and bridle, and only 18 ¾ cents in my pocket. My father lost the price of his farm after he sold it by an older claim, and he was not able to give his children land in the Territory, as it was at that time. I have seen as much hardship, probably, as any other man. I am proud to say that I never was afraid or ashamed of work, I always tried to attend to my own business, and never interfered with others only when I found it necessary in my neighborhood to assist in making peace among neighbors. I always adhered to Democratic principles and for this I have been set at naught by some of the people of this County. I am now and always have been opposed to the people of one state interfering with the laws of another state. I have always respected and obeyed the Constitution of my country and would be rejoiced if the General Government could and would make provision to colonise all the colored people to themselves, as I do not believe they ever can be a happy and contented people, if they were all set free amongst us.

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Copyright © 1 Mar 2007 by Christopher A. Meek