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 TWENTY-FIRST My little friends, if you will hark, Now I will tell you more About that cruel murder I alluded to before. When we were on the Vermillion In three or four days after The frightful news came to us Of that tremendous slaughter. They killed and scalped fifteen All in one house and yard, And captured two young ladies And kept them under guard. They ran these girls away With an Indian to each arm, Oh! Then it was hard times And most thrilling was the alarm. They ran them through the woods, They lost their bonnets from their heads Then they gave them handkerchiefs To tie on in their stead. And they gave them provision That they all did take away. To prepare it for themselves While it lasted, day-by-day. They treated them respectfully With decorum every day, And at night they spread soft skins For the ladies to lay. With an Indian at each side, Near by them they would lay, To protect them and to watch them, Lest they should run away. But what availed the friendship The Indians then could show, To hearts so full of sorrow, Terror, grief and woe. The young ladies very handsome, One had an extra suit of hair, A young chief did think to marry her, For she was very fair. An Indian in authority Resolved to have her hair, But the chief that thought to marry her, Did warmly interfere. They were about to have a combat, Upon that very day The young ladies were returned, And so they came away. Our authorities did purchase them With horses from the train, Their brother John went for them And brought them back again. And after he got back He directly comes to brother's, For his uncles' family all were there, And so were many others. And in a leisure hour We sat in conversation, He told me all the circumstances, Likewise, their deprivations. He said when at St. Louis The ladies gave them presents, And changes of clean clothing To them must have been pleasant. For they had not chance to wash From the day they went away, While they were with the Indians, Till they got back that day. He said that coming up Where they stopped upon the river, They met with many a pleasant, And smiling, cheerful giver. At places where we stopped, The benevolent and the good Gave them rich presents, Because they said thou could. They felt that it was better To give than to receive, And thus their sister's wants They greatly did relieve. And all seemed glad to see them, Welcome where they come, Welcome to all human hearts And welcome to their home. Home, then, did I say? O, Then I touched the sore, For the last they saw of home 'Twas a frightful, bloody gore. For they left them warm and bleeding, Where they chanced to fall that day, Both in the house and yard, And themselves were forced away. All that worthy family That occupied that home, And parts of other families That to that house had come. With only one exception, John chanced to be from home, The day those savage Indians To that house did come. No, never till life's latest date, Can they forget the day They saw their dearest friends all killed And themselves were forced away. From that heart-rending scene Now, we will turn our eyes, For in the resurrection Those loved ones all will rise. Our legislature gave them Each a section of good land, For them to sell or keep, To be at their command. They are living in this county, And both are living still, Both Rachel Hall and Sylvia, Not far from Munson's Mill. They have long since been married, And families they have raised, As wealthy and respectable As any in those days.