HENRY COUNTY, INDIANA GENEALOGY & HISTORY

THE WIDOW

By Bessie Spell Shirk.

I am indebted to Amy Miller-Connell and Ann Miller-Neilsen of Indianapolis, Indiana for contributing this sketch written by their great grandmother. This story may not be used, reproduced, or published without the consent of AMY.

Today I washed the old blue and white coverlet. That means house-cleaning is almost over.

For years we have not used the heavy covering, but each spring it is washed and put away in the bottom of the cedar chest.

As I hung it on the line and took the worn fringe in my hands to straighten out the tangles, I could marvel how well these old weavers did their work. How beautiful was the dark blue of the wool, and how white was the cotton of the thread. Then I picked up the corner to read the date, 1855 Henry County, Indiana. Why, that was the year that William died. March 1855.

The old coverlet had been familiar to me ever since I could remember but this was the first time it had really made me think of all the circumstances that had led up to the wool being taken to the mill at that time.

I could see my grandmother Nancy, standing at the gate with her little brood around her. She is trying to think things over calmly this bright June morning. It is her birthday and she is 30 years old on this day, June 15, 1855 and she has been a widow for three months.

Nancy is tall and strong like her father and she is looking things straight in the face. She must not depend so much on her brothers and neighbors to help her out, although they have been more than kind. Ever since William was stricken with the dread thphoid last October they have come to help her out with the work. At that time she was still in bed with the little baby, Jane.

When she was able to be up again there was much work to be done. Neighbors and relatives had taken care of the butchering and gathering of the corn but she must get the soap made, for the washings would be large.

She brought the jar of fat and rinds that she had been saving through the summer and found that Robert, now a big boy of ten and proud to be able to help had already filled the big iron kettle with the lye and had a good fire started. Soon he would have the faggots gathered to keep the fire going all day and night too, if necessary.

As soon as the lye was boiling, she commenced dropping in the fat. It was going to be an all day job and would require constant stirring. Frequently she would have to run to the house and see to William and the small baby. Sarah could wash the dishes and take care of the vegetables on the stove. For a girl of eight she was almost as much help as any woman.

It was nearing evening and the soap was beginning to thicken and Nancy, being tired and nervous, stirred too fast. The kettle tipped and the hot lye and grease spilled over her legs. Neighbors, coming down the road heard her screams.

They needed no doctors in those days to show them how to bandage, but Nancy carried the scars of those burns as long as she lived.

She wishes now that she had not insisted on moving to the farm which her father had deeded her, for she had known all along that William was no farmer at heart. His father was the village doctor and drove around over the country side day and night. He had seen to it that his children had as fair an education as could be obtained in the schools of that day, so when William and his friend Bushrod Scott wanted to start a small general store in Sulphur Springs he gave them all his help.

In the early 1850's the new railroad running from Chicago to Cincinnati was finished. It was not suprising that William was made Post-master.

The three oldest children had been born in the housekeeping rooms back of the store but they made crowded quarters as the family increased and Nancy longed for the country. She could hardly wait for her father to have their new home ready for them.

So now, on this bright June morning, she stands and watches Robert as he brings the horses from the stable and hitches them to the large farm wagon filled with the wool that stands in the shed.

The sheep were sheared early this year for the weather was getting warm now and she was eager to get it to the factory. Mr. Graham, the weaver had praised their nice, clean wool when she and William had been there before.

The two coverlets she had would be nice to save for Robert and Sarah but she must see that one was made for each of the other children. Robert first lifts the basket of food his mother packed and places it in a safe place in the wagon. He knows the children will soon be getting hungry. But he will see that they don't get into it until he and his mother have transacted their business.

Then he helps Sarah onto the wood and tells her to keep Allen and John on each side and hold on tight to them. Nancy climbs up on the seat and Robert hands the baby up to her. How proudly he takes the lines in his own hands and feels he is the head of the little family.

Down the road to the south for a mile and then he turns the horses heads to the east. The sun is getting high and soon it will be very hot! It will be up the hill and down the farther east they go, winding a little to the south, and many streams to cross before they reach the little town of Hillsboro. They stop at the grist mill to get a nice cool drink and Nancy buys some fresh gound meal. Then they commence the last long hill and soon they are in the busy village which at that time perhaps employed more men than any other place in the county. There were three general stores, two blacksmith shops, two woolen mills and a number of places for the family to visit.

Nancy could hardly resist the bright, pretty calicos for she loved to piece quilts, and many years later those quilts were proudly displayed to her grandchildren. Each one, yes each block contained a story....... I can remember now, when as a girl, I watched her showing them and I waited for the last beautiful ones when she would say "and these are the ones made from poor Sarah's wedding clothes." I think it was years before I had to whole story of Sarah Spell's tragic death.

She was a great favorite with all the family, the daughter of Dr. John Spell living near Honey Creek. She had a lovely wardrobe for a girl of her time, and had carefully saved all her coins to buy things for her new home.

Her riding horse was prancing and eager to go, the riding habit was long and clung around her feet. She places the black silk reticule on the saddle horse and starts to mount, her foot was secure in the stirrup, when the silver coins in the tea canister began to rattle. Wildly down the road goes the frightened horse, Sarah's foot tangled in the stirrup.

Her death was almost more than Nancy could bear for it had occured just when she was expecting her second child. All night, kind relatives tried to comfort her but before morning little Sarah was born. Her brothers promised her they would make a litter and carry her to see her dead sister-in-law.

I can imagine how much love and sadness were stitched into those beautiful quilts and when I last saw them they were more than 50 years old.

Now Nancy and the children are turning towards home and all tired out. Robert thinking of the chores, hopes it will still be light. Nancy's mind is full of the busy days ahead. There would be the bright new calico to show the neighbor women, the blue demin to make the boy's pants and jackets, the lovely coverlets which she would dew together with white cotton thread. She could be proud of one thing, for she was the possessor of a sewing machine, something very few women had. Her mother Elcy had bought it off a peddler traveling through the county and when the children came so rapidly she thought that Nancy should have it.

Busy days lay ahead for the family and there was not one that shirked his duty, but Nancy, while she was strong and could carry her end of the load, realized the limitations of her education and gladly follows the advice of her father and asks for a guardian for the children. So it came about that their good neighbor Aaron Ballard was appointed and there was never any complaint of his stewardship. He and his good wife were always called Grandpa and Grandma by the children.

When war came, Robert, like so many boys before and since his time, became restless to go fight for his country. So on November 11, 1863, he, together with his mother's three brothers, Wyatt, James and Andrew Crandall were mustered in at Richmond, Indiana.

Wyatt was captured at Nashville, Tennessee and never heard from again, and James badly wounded was returned home. Nancy's poor eyes became dim looking and longing for Robert, who was still listed among the missing. As a child, I can remember how she was always scanning the horizon, her hand shading her eyes. Years later a wandering soldier coming through these parts told they story of Robert's death in that dread Andersonville prison.

What a blessed thing that time and old age dims the mind of these poor mothers. Well I can recall how she take her quilt blocks on long summer days, I see her yet, raise her hand to shade her eyes and gaze down the road as if she were still looking for a boy of 21 to be coming home at last.

By Bessie Spell Shirk born Alberta Lee "Bessie" Spell on July 29, 1876 in Mt. Summit, Henry County, Indiana. She was daughter of Mahala Susan Dunbar and Allen Crandall Spell. She married Charles Rosco Shirk on January 4, 1899 in New Castle, Henry County, Indiana. Bessie died on March 24, 1952 in New Castle,Henry County, Indiana.



More Stories of Henry County by Bessie Spell Shirk

THE PIONEERS - Biography of Bessie's gr-grandparents
THE ELOPEMENT
GENERATIONS GO A FLYING
A GIRL OF THE 1880's GETS A NEW DRESS
JOHN WESLEY DUNBAR - Family group sheet of the John Wesley Dunbar family.
BIO OF J.W. DUNBAR - From the History of Henry County, Indiana 1822-1906

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