- MRS. ELIZABETH HALE, wife of Benjamin Wasson, was a daughter of Isaac and Elizabeth (Lewis) Hale, who emigrated from Vermont to Pennsylvania in 1790. A letter from her daughter Clara Mrs. Backensto-which gives an account of the emigration of the Wasson family to Illinois, together with a few incidents of their subsequent history, seems a fitting introduction to our sketch of Mrs. Benjamin Wasson.
FROM MRS. BACKENSTO TO HER NIECE, MRS. PERKINS.
"I regret the history you speak of was not written during my mother's lifetime, as her memory was so much better than mine. Those trying times made a more vivid impression on her mind. I was too young.
"My father, Benjamin Wasson, and his family, consisting of his wife Elizabeth, three sons, Lorenzo, Harmon and Warren, two (daughters, Clara and Boxy, started from Harpersville, Boone county, New York, some time in the latter part of August, 1836; his destination Knoxville, Illinois; his outfit, two teams and wagons, one a large covered wagon for goods. He expected to go through Ohio, but the second day out he heard that the Black Swamp, in Ohio, was impassable, so he crossed into Canada, at Lewistown, passing through Detroit and Chicago, down the Illinois River to Peoria, and from thence to Farmington, where he found an old neighbor from New York, Mr. Samuel Johnson, Jr., who was just ready to move his family to Dixon, Illinois,having his goods packed and waiting for the teams which did not come; so father unpacked our goods from the wagons into the log-cabin vacated by Mr. Johnson, packed Mr. Johnson's goods and family into our wagons and leaving us in the log cabin took Lorenzo and accompanied Mr. Johnson to Dixon's Ferry, as it was then called. So you see we found a home, such as it was, at the end of our long journey of six weeks. Father drove one of the teams for Mr. Johnson and the journey proved to be a longer and more tedious one than they expected, both for teams and drivers. Mr. Johnson, who was a shoemaker, had some sides of sole-leather with him, and these they were obliged to spreaddown as bridges for the teams to pass over the quicksand swamps. They could never have completed the journey had it not been for them.
"Your grandfather was so charmed with the country In the vicinity of what is now Amboy, that he concluded to locate claims for himself and two oldest sons, and did so on what is now the old homestead.
"He then returned to Farmington and found us settled. Harmon had dug potatoes on shares until he had enough to last us through the winter; also by husking corn, had bought some pigs; so father concluded to stay there a year, so as to raise provisions to last until he could get started in the new place, as the country was so unsettled that it was impossible to get provisions.
"In the winter, he and Harmon and Lorenzo went to what was then Palestine Grove, where they cut the logs for the "Old Log Cabin," and with the assistance of John Dexter, John Doan and his two sons, James and Joseph, rolled them up and put the roof on, after which they returned to Farmington.
"The next summer, in August, after the crops were attended to, he and the boys went back to Palestine to get out rails and fence a small piece of ground, make hay, build a stable, break prairie and sow some wheat, taking Clara (myself) along to cook and keep house for them. For six weeks I lived in that lonely cabin on the wide prairie (I was but fourteen then), and many a scare I had. The last, day and night we were there, father and the boys went to the timber, cut some logs and hauled them to Rocky Ford, where there was a saw-mill, run by Meek, I think, and had them sawed into boards, from which they made our floor-the first floor made of sawed boards in that country, the others being made of puncheon, that is, logs split into strips. They did not get home until ten o'clock at night. The next morning they laid the floor, after which we started for home in the afternoon. It was about ninety miles from Amboy to Farmington. My father made several journeys between the two places and we moved to our new home in December, 1837, a cold, cheerless wind and snow in our faces most of the way.
"Father used to have to go to Peoria to get his grain ground into flour. The last journey he made was in the winter; he expected to get back before we got out of bread, but before he got home there came up a furious storm of snow and wind, drifting it into hollows and sloughs so they became impassable. Father reached Greenfield, now LaMoille, late in the day, and notwithstanding that it-was dangerous to cross the prairie during the storm, he had been delayed so long he feared we were in need, so be resolved to push on. He did, but was obliged to go before the horses and beat-a track for them through the hollows. He reached Thomas Fessenden'slate at night completely tired out. He stayed there the remainder of the night and reached home the next morning, just as mother was making the last corn-meal into a Johnny cake.
"Mother always kept a beacon light burning in the little north window of the old cabin, so that if any person was wandering on that wide prairie it would guide them to a shelter.
"In about three years father built a frame house, Uncle Jesse Hale, from Pennsylvania, occupying the log house. Father brought the lumber' for the new house from Chicago across the country, ninety miles.
"In the spring of 1849, father went to California. He died on the way back, of congestive chills-never reached home."
So here, in the winter of 1837, the Wasson family took possession of their new home with its one small window, and that toward the north- but how much light and cheer and comfort flowed forth from that cabin as the years went by, it needs a mighty pen to tell.
Little Clara, fourteen years old, had been the first to consecrate it to home. Her light footsteps had sounded on the puncheons which would fly up at one end when she trod on the other. She had acted the woman's part in preparing the food and in "keeping house" for her father and brothers, she had roamed about the prairie in their absence, gathering grapes and plums, often calling on Mrs. Dexter, who loaned her books, among others, the "History of the Reformation," which she read through. She had staid alone when father and brothers were belated, from being detained at the saw-mill, and in the darkness had hidden, trembling in the covered wagon, listening to the howling wolves, and notdaring to enter the cabin lest some dreadful creature might be lurking in a corner. She did not then know of the "Banditti." Was it the fore-shadowing of their dark deeds which even then filled her with terror? But, at last, she heard the welcome sound of the coming wagon with the boards for the floor, which were laid the next morning, and in the afternoon they were all on their way to Farmington. This was in September, and in December all the family returned, the trip requiring two days. The first night they stopped at a Mr. Bond's, the next at Mr. Doan's.
In Mrs. Backensto's letter we see what wise and prudent forethought had been displayed by Mr. and Mrs. Wasson, in making ample provision for the winter by improving the opportunities, both here and at Farmington. Hence they were prepared to make themselves comfortable and to do good to all whom Providence might lead in their way. They seemed never to think of their own comfort or convenience, either physically or financially, when they could assist others in this new and sparsely settled country. From the time of Mrs. Wasson's coming she always endeavored to keep a light in the only window at night, especially on dark and stormy nights, so if there were any belated travelerswandering on the prairie it would guide them to a shelter; and any who came received the warmest welcome and the best the house afforded. The light could sometimes be seen for miles, to the old Chicago road.
Mrs. Wasson was a ministering angel in sickness. During a long season of ill health she had studied medical works, and in this country, where doctors and nurses were not to be had, such knowledge proved to be invaluable. She would often leave her bed on dark, tempestuous nights and ride miles to attend upon the suffering where her ministrations were most successful. There was a strength and self-possession in her character which invited the confidence of the sick: there was a firm, sedate, yet cheerful kindness which carried a most salutary influence into the chamber of sickness. She was above medium height, straight and strong, with a commanding presence. Her complexion wasfair, her eyes blue, and her hair a soft brown. No one could have doubted her straight forward, uncompromising integrity. It came to be a saying, "Mrs. Wasson can do anything for everybody," and her husband kindly lent her his aid.
Not very long after their coming, a death occurred about two miles away. A family by the name of Abbott lost a little daughter; there was no lumber to be had for a coffin, so Mr. Wasson took the remains of an Indian canoe, made of a black walnut log which one of the boys found on the prairie, partly consumed by fire, and made a pretty casket for the little one.
Whenever a wandering missionary came along, as they sometimes did, Mr. Wasson would send one of his sons on horseback to notify the settlers that there would be Divine service at his house. Mrs. Wasson would set the cabin in order and everyone who could come would do so.
We have seen how ready Mr. Wasson was to assist his wife in her usefulness, and there are many like instances remembered. Twelve years after their settlement here the excitement caused by the California gold mines induced him, in company with his youngest son, to try his fortune there. They proceeded to Nauvoo, and after resting at Mrs. Smith's, Mrs. Wasson's sister, crossed the river into the then track less west. After long and anxious waiting, the sad tidings of Mr. Wasson's death, which occurred in February, 1851, rea
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1800 - 1874 (74 år)
Har 89 forfædre og 21 efterkommere i dette stamtræ.
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