FAMILY HISTORY: POETRY Collection written by Elsie Strawn ARMSTRONG
  
  File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Les Howard Strawn
  
  Copyright 2006.  All rights reserved.
  http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm
  http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/somerset/
  ________________________________________________
  
          CHAPTER TWELFTH
  
  And so we left the Ohio
      In the year of thirty-one
  The fifteenth day of April,
      With my ninth little son.
  
  I came to Illinois,
      And I brought him in my arms,
  One year before the troubles
      Of the Indian war's alarms.
  
  When we came down to Madison
      We crossed the Indiana State,
  To get to Illinois
      Before it was too late.
  
  And after I had started
      On the road a coming here,
  I caught a violent cold,
      And my cough was most severe.
  
  A well appearing gentleman
      From old Kentucky state,
  But lived in Illinois,
      One morning rose and spake,
  
  "I am concerned about this lady,
      She took cold upon the way,
  She coughed most of the night,
      And has commenced again today.
  
  "I fear when she gets there,
      Her death will be at hand,
  And that will bring a bad report
      Upon the goodly land.
  
  "The trouble and anxiety
      Of leaving home and friends,
  All conspire against them,
      To bring them to their ends.
  
  "And the exposure and the hardship
      Of moving on the road,
  When they get to Illinois,
      Soon after they unload,
  
  "Their constitution all is gone,
      They must lie down and die;
  Then, 'O, the sickly country!
      They raise the hue and cry!"
  
  "Don't go to Illinois
      Unless you wish to die,
  For people cannot live there,
      It is no use to try."
  
  "Now I want you to take notice
      Of what I am going to say,
  For I believe it will help you,
      At least, I hope it may.
  
  "Get yourself some flour of sulphur
      The first chance that you see,
  And don't fear to take it freely,
      And better soon you'll be.
  
  "For you have a tedious journey
      To get to Illinois,
  And when you will be needed
      By all those little boys."
  
  And so I got some sulphur
      Before that it was noon,
  And I went into taking it,
      And I got better soon.
  
  That night I rested better
      Than I had done before,
  I felt I was relieved,
      And coughed but little more.
  
  When we came near Vincennes
      We turned up the Wabash River
  The sand was deep and heavy,
      And the wheeling not so clever.
  
  We crossed at Terre Haute,
      And took Paris on our way,
  And we went about five miles
      On that holy Sabbath day.
  
  The mud was very deep
      And we went through timberland,
  And we stayed that Sabbath night
      Where Paris now doth stand.
  
  And there, the Grand Prairie
      Lay open to our view,
  Of the trouble just before us
      Then we but little knew.
  
  For then from grove to grove
      We were obliged to drive,
  No matter what the distances,
      Fifteen or twenty-five.
  
  Sometimes we started early,
      Almost as soon as light,
  And traveled all the day
      And sometimes after night.
  
  After a hard day's travel,
      Having trouble on the way,
  When it was growing dark,
      We did fear we had gone astray.
  
  And then, away ahead,
      When we could see a light,
  It was a very pleasant
      And most reviving sight!
  
  When we came on the prairie
      Our trouble did increase,
  For there in many places
      The earth was soft as grease.
  
  The heavy five-horse wagon
      Sunk nearly to the bed,
  And then it was impossible
      For us to go ahead.
  
  All the horses down,
      A lying in the mud,
  Except the good old saddle horse,
      He, on his feet still stood.
  
  The fourth lay across the other,
      And he did most piteous moan,
  And Oh!  It was distressing to hear
      That poor horse groan.
  
  Half buried in the mud,
      Walled his eyes as if in death,
  While the other lay upon him
      He could hardly get his breath.
  
  Soon as they got her off, he held
      His head up and looked glad,
  Though appearances around him
      Still looked rather sad.
  
  I then rode back some miles,
      Hired a man to leave his plow,
  And bring his prairie team
      To haul us through that slough.
  
  He hauled us seven miles,
      I paid him his demand,
  He said he helped us on to
      Where it was higher, better land.
  
  Then I rode before on horseback,
      And when I crossed on a slough
  I crossed it to and fro, to find
      A place I thought would do.
  
  Where I thought it was the best
      I would light off of my horse,
  And there I'd stand and hold her
      Till all were gotten across.
  
  Sometimes I called and told them,
      When the team came up,
  They had best unload a lot of things,
      For fear they might get stuck.
  
  The third son brought a bed,
      And then a lot of clothes,
  On which his poor sick brother
      Might quietly repose.
  
  Then next he'd bring his brother,
      He carried him on his back,
  A heavy load he was for him,
      Through mud and sloughs to pack.
  
  He was fifteen years old,
      His brother, two years older,
  Through many sloughs he carried him,
      And brought him on his shoulder.
  
  With anxious care I then looked on,
      To see my little boys
  Laboring so very hard
      To get to Illinois.
  
  The third son often carried
      Lots of things across the slough,
  For fear we might get stuck,
      And then not know what to do.
  
  And O! With what anxiety
      I watched the team to see
  If they'd power to get through,
      If such a thing might be.
  
  The fourth little son,
      It was he that drove the team,
  And he had enough to do,
      And that it well might seem.
  
  And when the team was standing
      He would walk around to see
  If the gearing all was right,
      And in good heart they seemed to be.
  
  And when we came to Bainter Creek,
      We found it swimming deep,
  And on the other side we were
      Obliged ourselves to keep.
  
  For three long days and nights
      We were obliged to stay,
  And we felt it was against us
      To make that long delay.
  
  Two boys took two large horses
      That were full sixteen hands high,
  And rode them through the stream,
      That way, its' depth to try.
  
  And when they got across
      They thought they'd bring their brother John,
  To help to make a raft
      To cross the things upon.
  
  As so they rode ahead
      Full thirty miles or more,
  Away out to their uncle's    
      Where they never were before.
  
  And then off to the river,
      Where they found their brother John,
  A working on his claim,
      Near the place now called Lacon.
  
  Next day when they came back
      They found the stream was falling,
  They thought they'd cross next day,
      And could do it then by hauling.
  
  And I was very glad
      To see my eldest son,
  He seemed to be the staff
      I mostly leaned upon.
  
  And a joyful meeting
      To me it surely were,
  For then I seemed relieved
      Of nearly all my care.
  
  He was nineteen years of age
      When he came to Illinois,
  And one year and ten months
      Had made improvement in my boy.
  
  And here I should make mention
      Of that kind family
  Who came here the year before,
      From the state of Tennessee.
  
  They were pleasant and were cheerful,
      Disposed for to be kind,
  Which helped to pass the time
      With more endurance to my mind.
  
  Their cooking apparatus,
      When all was told and said,
  To bake and boil and fry,
      Were one oven and one lid.
  
  My skillet, pot and tea kettle
      There seemed to come in play,
  She said she would much miss them
      When I took them away.
  
  I found the pork, she found the greens,
      Sometimes we cooked together,
  And then we all sat around the board,
      And that did seem so clever.
  
  In one corner of the house
      They had an Illinois bed,
  On which that couple slept
      With scarce a coverlet.
  
  They offered me a fine large cow
      For a double coverlet;
  I was thinking some of trading
      When William spoke and said.
  
  "We soon can raise a flock of cows,
      But not a coverlet."
  I say the boy was right
      And nothing more was said.
  
  In the morning we got ready,
      The boys got up the team
  And drove off to the water,
      And then drove through the stream.
  
  The wagon bed did leak
      And let the water in,
  And the way it wet my beds and things
      Seemed something like a sin.
  
  For in the latter part of May
      My things would mold and rot,
  If not out of that wagon bed
      I soon could have them got.
  
  And so we came ahead,
      And the third day it came to pass
  I had them out a drying,
      And some spread on the grass.
  
  Son John just had a house built,
      Likewise a blacksmith shop,
  And there was where we went,
      And there we made a stop.
  
  That house for early times
      Was one among the best,
  With seven foot sheds on either side,
      One east, the other west.
  
  The house was up and roofed,
      But we could not get in;
  No log from door or windows;
      Cut out had ever been.
  
  But early on Monday morning,
      After the Sabbath o'er,
  Two boys with cross cut saw
      Cut out the place for the door.
  
  Then I commenced the moving
      In on the green grass floor,
  That grass had seen the sun and rain
      Not quite one week before.
  
  The prairie there was level,
      No sleepers in the way,
  The grass was fresh and green,
      'Spersed with a little hay.
  
  They cut out a chimney place,
      And built as best they could;
  They made a four-foot table,
      And they made it of split wood.
  
  I spread two breadths of carpet
      On the fore part of the floor,
  And we ate and slept most sweetly,
      With a quilt hung in the door.
  
  And off of that square table
      Most cheerful meals we ate,
  Of fowl, fish and potatoes,
      And different kinds of meat.
  
  Then they went to making rails
      To fence in twenty acres,
  While some were making rails
      The others were the breakers.
  
  John then had got ten acres
      Broke the year before,
  And then with four good horses
      They broke ten acres more.
  
  And then to get some seed corn
      We knew not where to go,
  For there was none in this country
      That year, they said would grow.
  
  But as good luck would have it,
      We had brought some for feed,
  And that, far as it went
      Did answer for our seed.
  
  But that corn did not reach
      To plant our field all o'er
  And then we hardly knew
      How to get a little more.
  
  William went to the river
      And found the red man's boat
  And then he stepped in that,
      And shoved it off afloat.
  
  Away across the river,
      And found where they did live,
  And bought some corn from them,
      And a high price had to give.
  
  He gave one silver dollar
      For what filled a small tin pail,
  When he poured it into ours,
      To fill it, it did much fail.
  
  And it planted out our field,
      With pumpkins, beans and such
  And if we had not got sick,
      It would have helped us much.
  
  To be gone two days away,
         John we could not spare,
  For we had then the ague,
      And needed much his care.