My two sets of great-great grandparents traveled from Georgia to Arkansas on a wagon train. The man who scouted for it, probably a distant kin, wrote a daily diary as they went. The Blackburns and Robinsons were my ancestors. I'm including a few of these true daily posts that I thought you might like. Thanks for Reading,
November 11, 1858.
We had on our train a very entertaining couple. We came to a place where people were raising a log cabin, the very sickliest crowd I ever saw. Our man asked the crowd, “How long have you people been dead?” Right there we were almost in a fight; but our man apologized by begging pardon telling the cause of his mistake was they buried people where he came from long before they looked half as bad as that crowd did. Then we had to retreat, double time, and beg off.
November 23, 1858.
Four inches of snow on the ground this morning. We leave Thomasville, pass through very thinly settled hills and valleys, water very scarce. I must tell you that we had been living on Irish potatoes for several days and still doing so. These we had to dig out of the snow; no bread stuff to be had. They would all tell us, “Our folks are all gone into Ar-can-saw, about fifty miles away, to mill with wheat. Looking back tonight, I found some flour for sale in Thomasville. But it being in the night, we had to chase the chickens out of their roost in the flour bin. I concluded to wait until morning, then stick to our potato digging which was not so bad with fat quail, squirrel and pigeon. Meeting nothing of note, we camp in Howells' Valley after a day's travel of twenty miles.
November 24, 1858.
I must state here that I was sort of a handy boy to look up something to eat, and tramped ahead with my gun. Frequently, I would be requested to look out for various things to eat, this time it was butter. I soon found a place I could get all I wanted if I could wait for the housewife to churn, which I agreed to do. I heard the lady chasing the pigs back of the house. I looked around there and saw her chasing the pigs out of a large wooden churn. Had it been a stone one I think I could have stomached it, but not a wooden one. I told her I was in a hurry, and if she got it ready maybe she could sell it to the train when it came by, and I would move on knowing well that my folks would not buy as they left that to me. In camp that night one of our ladies bawled out that if anyone wanted butter she would divide out her stock. She described the place to me and I knew at once she bought the butter where the pigs were chased out of the churn. But I would take none of it which they all thought strange, because I was fond of butter. I gave no reason that I would not take any of it, only that there would not be enough to go around if I did. After the butter had all disappeared, I let out my secret. If you have ever saw a mad crowd of women, that was the maddest. One of my aunts said she would never forgive me. We go into camp having traveled eighteen miles.
December 15, 1858.
Four of us, viz. John H. Blackburn, Alfred S. Robinson, John Coon and the writer started for White county, but changed our course and headed for the Arkansas River Valley. Our object to look out for a satisfactory location. We traveled on horseback, leaving the balance of our troops in camp near Huntsville. Our trip led us over rough lofty mountains. We came to the white river, and traced it to its source. We passed over other high mountains, struck branches of the Mulberry river, then descending the mountains into Johnson county, took up lodging with one, Mr. Jones, a good distance from Huntsville.(This foursome traveled on to the Arkansas River Valley to Galley Rock, in Pope County. The Blackburns and the Robinsons, my ancestors, found their promised land, and settled there.)
Mr. Darr tells of seeing a three hundred pound catfish on the ferry while crossing the Mississippi River. Members of the wagon train were advised to shave their heads before the trip, to make themselves less attractive to Indians. He tells a cute little story about a mess he found himself in, before the trip even got started.
"Must tell how I got in a tight place at our first camp. Many of the neighbors came to our camp and amongst them was a pretty and attractive young lady with the good name of Prudence, who made many remarks of regret because she could not accompany us as she had kinfolks amongst us. The writer, not looking for anything more serious than a joke remarked, “Why not go with me?” Oh Jerusalem! But she answered, “This is so sudden, but I will answer you in the morning before you leave camp.” Now, what was I to do? No trouble if her answer was “no,” but if “yes” the devil I would have to pay as I could not even care for myself, of course I would have to back down if yes, and treat it as a joke. But I done better. I hit the road and was several miles on my way at sunup. This taught me never to joke with a young lady on this subject unless prepared to foot the bill."
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