I write this in memory of my mother, Polly Mahala Hamilton, who was born June 21, 1810, in North Carolina, Lincoln County. Her parents were Archibald Hamilton and Susannah Bridges Hamilton. The grandfather and grandmother Bridges were born in Prince William County, Maryland. [This must be what is Prince William County, Virginia, now]. He was married with a claw-hammer coat and knee-breeches, as they called them at that time. And a ruffle shirt with fancy cuff buttons, which I still have in my possession. And I still have the bride’s red cloth cloak that my mother fell heir to.
(North Carolina) Mother lived with her father and mother, in a large log house, and her brother Tommie, also. It was hewn out of pine trees. And a fine spring was nearby. She and little brother would go after water and play for hours in the white sand, barefoot. Grandfather would go to his brother Reuben's, bring back a wallet (bag) of apples and they were in their glory just waiting until Grandmother could bake them half-moons in the spider on the hearth, before a roaring fire of pine knots.
They had a black cow that mired down in a swamp, had to get the neighbors to help rescue her. They would go with their father fishing in a canoe on the Catawba River, and always get plenty of fish, and they would sail along the banks and gather muscadines, a small grape, but larger than our wild grapes. Sometimes would have their canoe full of grapes and fish. They had some deer there, but not plentiful.
She went to church in private houses, and as that was a slave state, the colored folks stayed on the porch and in the yard, the white ones enjoyed the inside of the room. I am glad to say none of the Hamiltons were slave holders. It was something they did abhor, keeping human beings in bondage. One time she and her parents went to church at a private house, and when services were over several went out. A young girl went down the path from the house where there was a row of cucumbers—there she picked up a large one—held it behind her, and went on, when all in the house could see her. That amused Mother, small as she was. So many incidences like that she would tell and never tire.
Mother went to school one summer there in a small log cabin with a dirt floor, in an outcast broomsage field. The older girls would break the broomsage off, tie it up and sweep the floor perfectly clean. The teacher would sing every morning, “How Tedious And Tasteless The Hours”, the old-time song every one that could sing must do so, and by memory. She had what she called a “First Primer” (reader) and kept it for years.
She was very active with her needle—wanted to sew with straws, so Grandfather went with her to a country store, set her up on the counter, and had her try on thimbles—was trouble to get one small enough. He finally found one that would fit and bought two needles, also. That was a proud day for her as she went home to tell Grandmother, and she gave her a ball of cotton thread to sew with. She said she would sew for hours out in the shade of the trees.
Grandfather had a lease on his brother Reuben’s farm for ten years—always said when the lease run out he would emigrate to a new country—and when it expired in 1816, great preparations were made for the move to Indiana, as they had decided on that new country. The first thing to prepare was a stout, very strong wagon to go over the mountains. Uncle Ninian, his brother, was a first-class blacksmith and was working at it when one night the shop caught fire and everything burned. So, they had to wait another year to have good seasoned wood to use for the wagon. They waited patiently and kept working on. Grandmother made more linsey flannel and janes, as they made all their clothes then. She made many buttons with thread—Mother could make them also. She saved all kinds of garden seed to bring to the new country, also all kinds of dried herbs, and a pint of apple seed.
Well, the wagon was finished with hoops and very heavy muslin drawn over the top, with a gathering string in the back to draw it together—it sure was perfect in every detail. In the fall of October, 1817, early one morning all the neighbors came in to eat breakfast with them and bid them good-bye, and had a season of prayer before they departed for the new country. Had forgotten to mention the church denominations there—were all Methodist, Episcopal, and Baptist. The neighbors all helped load—part of them went with them until dinner time, when they ate a hasty dinner. That first day, among the number that went, was Grandmother Bridges, and when she started to turn back, Mother said there were tears in her eyes. No wonder, as three of her daughters, Grandmother, Betsy Hayden and Nancy Litton, came also, in the one wagon.
Grandfather had four horses to start with--one got foundered eating green corn on the road--could not pull much. Mother and brother Tommie would ride on him sometimes.
They were over six weeks coming. Came over Paint Mountain Clinch and Cumberland Mountains. Some have changed their names since they came through the Cumberland Gap. That was such a noted place during the Civil War. Mother said they all walked quite a good many miles--said she never wanted to go over that road again. When they camped for the night the wolves would howl and the children would cover up their heads. The men would keep up fires which was said to scare them away. Grandmother would go out of the wagon and blow a trumpet, about five or six long blasts, that would quiet them most of the night. Grandpa was a great hunter--very apt with firearms--and he shot several kinds of game as they were coming.
They came to a large stream one day where there had been a log house torn down, but the fire-place and part of the chimney remained. So, they tarried there two or three days, washed and baked enough to do them several days, and rested up considerable. Someone said let the afflicted horse stand in water and they did, and it helped him. They ironed their clothes, stretched them over the chair backs. A few times when they got out of grub, would stop at some cabin along the way for something, and they were always made welcome, and given all they wanted if they had it, without money or without price, especially if they were colored folks.
As they got up one mountain several wagons of travelers were along--one young man clapped his hands on his sides and crowed to the delight of the children. That much of the travel was over. In after years, Mother found out that he lived near Salem. She went to see him and talked over old times. His name was Stover, and he lived to be very old.
Many were the ups and downs they had. They did not travel on the Sabbath as they were taught by their parents it was a sacred day set aside for rest. They camped in some quiet place on Saturday night, next morning read the Bible, sang songs, had prayers by all the family. All during the day it was like an old-fashioned love feast, sure enough, that our young people know nothing of in these days.
They built fires with two flints knocked together, which made sparks on coarse tow which caught fire. Had brought their fagots of pine kindling with them. Never had seen any matches at that time.
They crossed the Ohio River at a little town, called Utica, Clark County, now--on a flat boat as they did on all other large rivers. They were now in Indiana, where so long they hoped to have a home of their own. This was one year after the state had been admitted to the union. They traveled several miles, was weary, so Grandmother said, "We are here now, let us stop and hunt a home." One evening late, they came to a log cabin, and wondered if they could stop over night and rest up. They went to the nearest house, inquired who owned it, and could they stay a few days there? The good man of the house said, "Why, yes, if you can clean it out--had it full of fodder last winter-and welcome to it."
Grandfather told him they were moving and wanted to buy land the first opportunity. They all went to work, cleaned it out, and Mother said there was a very large blessed fire-place. They soon had their supper, fed their horses, tethered them out all night. Soon had their comforts and blankets on the puncheon floor, and down to sleep under the first roof they had slept under for over six weeks. Getting rather cool by this time. Next morning Grandfather cut fodder on the shares for his horses. Grandmother pulled turnips on the shares, and Mother and Tommie piled them and cut off the tops. She kept on and pulled them all, and the woman gave her two hens for her work, and the children were surely pleased, called them their pets, and thought Indiana a fine place. Those people's name was Sellers, as were those of several of the neighbors--I suppose that is where Sellersburg got it's name.
Grandmother's sisters, Betsy and Nancy, went farther one, in what is known now as Spencer County, Indiana. Grandfather stayed there several days. He helped all the neighbors work at various things, and sent the news out that he wanted to buy land. One day a strange name rode up, said he wanted to see the man what wanted to buy land. Said he wanted to sell his, as he had moved his family from Kentucky and found out he could not keep slaves here, as this was not a slave state, and his women folks would not stay in Indiana on that account. Grandpa got on his horse, and went with the man several miles, ten or twelve. The first thing he asked, was there good water?--the man said the best of water. They walked all over it--Grandfather thought it very good land, but not much cleared up. There was a log cabin with a very large fire-place, large rock hearth, puncheon floor, and under that a little cellar, with Irish potatoes, and he said there was some not dug yet, and he could have all of them as his family was already gone. Grandfather said he would take it, but I never did know what price he paid. There were also, two log stables for his four horses.
He returned, said to Grandmother he had bought land. He said to the man he could not pay him anything on the land until he collected his sale bills from North Carolina the next summer. The man said that was all right and returned to Kentucky, not a line drawn to bind the bargain. Just think how people trusted one another them days. They made ready to move down home, as they called it. Horses harnessed to the covered wagon, which had not been unloaded yet, only things they needed to use--some fodder and corn thrown in, turnips, and two hens to the children's delight, were made ready.
Polly and Tommie got down here just a few days before Christmas and snow was on the ground, but there was nothing Polly and Tommie could do, even before they were unpacked, but go see that nice spring between two rocks. Mother had her little tin cup in her hand, and they both drank heartily of the good water of the spring that was to be theirs for many many years. They went back to the house where Grandfather had built a heaping log fire, and they were soon warm, although Grandmother had her feet badly frozen, but soaked them in strong salt water several nights, which entirely cured them.
Grandfather went in a few days to the nearest neighbor, a Mr. Knotts that lived northwest of what is now Clyde Martin's spring, to have him help unload the wagon. There was a large chest, very heavy with pewter dishes. They used more of them in those days as Queensware was very hard to get. I have the old chest, and one pewter dish yet in my possession. Will keep them while I live. Mr. Knotts then invited them to eat Christmas dinner with them--they went--and the Knotts had butchered and had a side of ribs hung before the fire-place. It would turn around and roast--a pan was set underneath to catch the grease. Mother said it was just fine, when they ate that up another side of ribs was roasted in the same way. Had potatoes and cabbage, and wheat biscuits--they had not eaten any for some time--been eating corn dodgers. Mother said she would nip off a little at a time so it would last longer--and they also had maple syrup. Said they talked about that Christmas dinner for years, and even after they were grown.
Later they made their own maple syrup--was all the sweetening they had for years. Did not often see sugar as it was so costly. Grandfather and Grandmother worked out and cleared up fields, and burned brush all day, then at night would sew, mend and knit. Soon got sheep and made all the clothes they wore, both Sunday and every day clothes also.
As spring came on Grandpa was troubled how he could get corn to feed his four horses so they would be able to plow. Inquired around, no corn to be had about here, then someone told him there was some to sell down in the Grant (now Harrison County). Well, he did not have the money and he must not go in debt--he was then told of a man by the name of Wyman who would loan him the money. He said no, I am a stranger here, and he would not trust me. They said, yes, he has helped many new comers. He felt forced to go and ask the favor, and Mr. Wyman said, i certainly favor you with all the money you need, which was a God-send to Grandfather in a strange land. Then he said, do you want the money or corn after I raise it in the fall?--just suit yourself. I have plenty--do not need it--just take your time. I always help them that try to help themselves. Ever after they were fast friends. Some of his descendants are here yet.
These grandparents sowed flax seed to make part of their clothing and one summer Lorenzo Dow, that noted preacher that traveled everywhere, was to preach at Salem. They all wanted to go, but the flax was ripe and ready to pull, and Grandpa said that must be done first. They all pulled, the day before and until about ten o'clock at night, and Polly and Tommie were so tired, but allright next morning. Part of the neighbors went, in the big farm wagon that had crossed the mountains, with the family. They had a platform with a table on it, and a chair on that, he would sit awhile and stand awhile and hold on to the brake lines. Mother was always impressed with his looks--hair hung over his shoulders, and he had such long eyebrows. If he bought a new suit, he always gave it to someone that needed it worse--never wanted much, said he was always working for God and he gave him all he needed.
Uncle Tommie would lie on the floor and cry for apples and sweet potatoes--they had so many in the old North State, so long before sweet potatoes did well--ground so new--too much shade, all grew vines. They just split the potato in the hill and it would take some time for it to sprout. But, they finally got so they could raise fine ones. Grandmother would split one, lay it in the oven by the side of corn dodgers, put the lid on, cover with coals, and never take the lid off until she was ready to eat. And, the big stew kettle hanging on the crane over the fire with meat, beans, cabbage or whatever she wanted for dinner. Then the milk and butter--all fit for a king, and no complaints about the victuals after working out in the fresh air from four o'clock in the morning until the going down of the sun in the western horizon.