James Sherrill: Scenic Wonders and Tired Travelers - June the 12th

It was June the 12th, only three weeks into the trip to Oregon. Already the women were complaining about the trip: the dust, the lack of privacy, the difficulties of cooking every meal over a campfire instead of an iron, wood burning stove, the weary work of hauling water from the Platte, or one of its tributaries. The things they could find to complain about were endless. James could hear them morning and night as they broke camp and made camp.

Monarch iron wood burning stove circa 1850s
by Hardyplants at Wikipedia - Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license.

James was so proud of his young bride, Mary Ann! She was such a trooper - no complaints from her. Instead, she told stories to Mary Kyniston that made the little girl giggle, and made jokes with her mother, Nancy, that put a smile on her tired face. Oh yes, his new bride was a blessing to him, way beyond anything he had expected.

Tonight they were having buffalo stew - again. Instead of complaining that all they had was buffalo, buffalo, buffalo, Mary Ann said it was wonderful they had good meat off the hoof, and could save the stores they were hauling for when game was scarce. She had amusing comments about the monuments and wonders of the trail. Today it was Courthouse Rock - that huge block of sandstone and clay, standing up in the middle of the flat plain.

Courthouse Rock - a Public Domain image by Caddywagon at Wikipedia

She threatened to throw them all in the Courthouse Rock jail if they didn't come quick to dinner while the food was still hot. The wagon train was making good time, at least on the days when they were not interrupted by soldiers, or by Indians, or by a stampede or a thunderstorm. It was a conundrum, how many things could just crop up out of the blue to deter, delay or discourage them.

James was beginning to see some advantages in the way Mary Ann, and her family, studied the Bible and learned verses by heart. Yesterday, after that awful stampede, they had first thanked God for saving their wagon and animals and themselves from harm. Then they began discussing the benefits of trials, and quoted to each other Romans 5:3 - 5 "but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed: because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." 

There were other similar verses they quoted, but it was enough for him to try to assimilate even one of them. Was this what made them so different from other people on the wagon train? They didn't grumble or complain, they didn't get mad and lose their tempers, or swear, and more than what didn't happen, they were kind and loving, not only to each other, but even to strangers. "I could certainly use a better attitude", thought James. "I need to pay attention and find out how they do this. How do they get this Helper they talk about, this Holy Ghost?"

James Sherrill: Stampede!

We could see the wagon train ahead of us on the trail as we came down a slight hill, and it was plain what started the trouble. "Somebody's untrained, worthless dog had gone over the bank of the Platte to cool off. He stayed there until all the teams had passed. The loose stock was just coming up - when the dog bounded from the water and shook himself. Away went cows, horses, bulls, and all."

"When the stampede started  the loose cattle were half mile behind the wagons, which was the distance they were allowed to keep, but on they came with renewed vigor..." "The captain, taking in the situation at a glance, clapped his spurs to his mare and bounded along the line with a trumpet voice for those in the wagons to 'halt and drop your wagon tongues'. But it was too late for all to accomplish."

"Some of the oxen stopped and some did not. One of the runaway oxen fell down and broke its neck, and that gave the pioneer mother time to get out of the rear of the wagon with her baby, and get down the bank of the river. The damage from this stampede was a few broken wagon tongues, several smashed wheels, one ox with a broken neck, another with a broken leg, and two days layover for repairs. no one was crippled, although some were bruised." [see The Brazen Overlanders of 1845, page 74, by Donna M. Wojcik, c. 1976]

It made us see why some wagon trains had rules against dogs, and didn't allow them to run loose. The terrible fury and power in all those huge animals running out of control, smashing into wagons, running over people and anything in their way, was terrifying to watch. That night, our wagon train voted on new rules for keeping dogs on a leash or under restraint. Passed unanimously. 

Thunder and lightening and pouring rain -

it is a typical Platte River valley summer storm. The horses and oxen are terrified and trying to bolt. Everyone who was sleeping under the wagons or in a tent are crowding dripping wet into the nearest wagon. Nobody is writing a blog in this storm, and neither is Pandababy. Please come back tomorrow when we have dried out and had a nap. We will have an exciting tale for you, I am sure.

Storm in the Rocky Mountains by Albert Bierstadt

	The author died in 1902, so this work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 100 years or fewer. This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published (or registered with the U.S. Copyright Office) before January 1, 1928.
This file has been identified as being free of known restrictions under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights.

James Sherrill: Toll Bridges and Indians

 The second day out from crossing the Missouri, Mary Ann and James saw a bridge over a creek. The sign said "Big Papillion Creek". The Indian standing with his arms crossed over his chest in the middle of the bridge entry said nothing until they came close. Then he told them they must pay fifty cents to cross the bridge. James dug in his pocket and brought out his coins, kept in a small rawhide pouch.

"Well I hope there are not too many toll bridges ahead!" cried Mary Ann.

"Not many toll bridges," replied James. "The Barlow road, which is our cut-off to the Willamette Valley, is where we'll have to pay a few hefty tolls. Those toll gates are not run by Indians, but by white men."

"Why do they think they can charge all of us a toll?" asked Mary Ann.

"I suppose because they did the road work, removing boulders and trees, making the roadway safer. Your father went over the problems we'll face on this trip with me before we left. He's a wise man, your father, to have gone to Oregon and back the year before our trip, and discovering what we need to do to get ready. He told me there are several toll gates coming down from Mt Hood, and all of them are costly."

"Would it be just as costly to go down the Columbia River to Portland, then turn south to our land claim?"

"More costly than the Barlow Road, Mary Ann, and also more dangerous. Richard looked into both routes on his trip in '51. Many of the published guides to Oregon are written by people who expect to profit from new settlers. They exaggerate the benefits and skip over the perils. That is why Richard felt it was important to see for himself, before risking his family on this adventure. He wanted to see the land, and know if it was worth the effort to get there."

"If we just get to our land in Oregon safely I shall be very grateful," she replied. 

James reassured her, "Richard added up the cost of toll bridges, ferries, and the Barlow Road toll gates, so we know what it will cost us, and we all have money set aside. We can't avoid the dangers, like the risk of swimming the cattle across the rivers, but thanks to your father, we are prepared for what is ahead."

James Sherrill: Summer heat turned muddy roads into fine dust

which choked the travelers and clogged the nostrils of the oxen. James soaked a rag in clean water, and wiped the nostrils of all eight of his oxen, carefully removing the caked dust. It was enough to literally kill one the valuable animals if they were not helped by their drovers. They saw terrible evidence of that along the side of the road as they traveled.

Wolves and Buffalo documentary by Jeff Turner on PBS

Every night, James set up the tent they slept in, which during the day was carried under the wagon. Although the tent was more comfortable than the wagon for sleeping, it felt suffocating on these hot nights. Between the heat, and the occasional gunshot from nervous night guards, plus the howling of wolves, it was a wonder any of them got enough sleep to be able to work. Mary Ann walked along the next day, putting twigs and buffalo chips into the bag for building the fire that night. She considered as she walked, how little she had appreciated a bed that didn't move, a room with walls, a house that exuded quiet and peace, when she had them each and every day and night.

For Mika - cover of book for you

 

Mika Bui

Oregon Trail Ancestors – 1852

"Courtesy of the University of Texas Libraries, The University of Texas at Austin." Feydey
From The Ox Team or the Old Oregon Trail 1852-1906 by Ezra Meeker. Fourth Edition 1907
CLICK ONCE TO SEE LARGE IMAGE, ONCE MORE TO RETURN (Image of map in Public Domain)

        Four Oregon Trail Pioneer Ancestors from 1852
of
Mika Bui

Mika's great-great-great-grandparents:
James Sherrill & Mary Ann Evans, m 13 May 1852
Wapello County, Iowa to Linn County, Oregon in 1852

Mika's great-great-great-great-grandparents:

Richard Evans & Nancy Toone, m 30 Aug 1818
Wapello County, Iowa to Linn County, Oregon in 1852

          

Research and Writing by April (Dellinger) Dauenhauer

2022

                                                                        

James Sherrill - Across the Missouri - May 1852

 "It required a great deal of manual labor to propel one of the ferry boats.The one that ferried thousands of emigrants across the river at Kanesville was a scow which was pulled [along] a rope made fast on each side of the river." "Where the water was shallow, they used spike poles, and where it was deep they used oars. Two wagons were all that could be ferried at one time....hundreds of wagons waiting and hundreds coming every day." (Mary Ann Boatman on her crossing the Missouri in 1852, in "Surviving the Oregon Trail 1852", Weldon Willis Rau, copyright 2001.)

Even with three ferries running wagons across the Missouri at Kanesville (later known as Council Bluffs), it took all day for their wagon train of 200 wagons - plus all the livestock - to cross to the west bank of the Missouri River. Although it was dangerous, men would swim their herds of cattle across the river, both to save time and money. There was no  question about the smaller animals -- pigs, sheep, goats, etc. had to be loaded onto the ferries.

Mary Ann and James, and the whole family group, spent Friday, Saturday and Monday in final preparations before they could cross the Missouri River. A month's worth of their stores, used up in crossing Iowa, was replenished at the general stores that stocked everything the emigrants could want. Sunday as usual was given to rest and worship. They were all up before the dawn on Tuesday, April 18th, lining their wagons up on the bank of the Missouri for their perilous trip over in the scow. Suddenly the air was rent by the shrill whistle of a steamboat -- the El Paso had arrived.

The steamboat had come up the Missouri and was offering tickets across for $10 per wagon, four yoke of cattle included. How paltry their $4 tickets to cross on the old scows looked now, and they would have to swim their cattle across, at great risk. The rush for steamer tickets was great, but they were already in the line for their scheduled scow. The next day, May 19th, they were in camp down the road when they heard another steam boat whistle, announcing the arrival of the Robert Campbell.

Either one of the steam boats could carry over a dozen wagons with their cattle per trip, and make over a dozen trips per day, and another dozen trips at night. Emigrants coming up on them from behind were quick to inform them of the situation back in Kanesville. Within two days a thousand wagons, with their people and stock, were overtaking the Evans wagon train on the road just west of the Missouri River. According to one traveler on the west bank, "we were overtaken by this throng of a thousand wagons thrown upon the road, that gave us some trouble and much discomfort". (Mary Ann Boatman, in "Surviving the Oregon Trail 1852" by Weldon Willis Rau, Washington State University Press, 2001.)

The Evans' train started in the dark, early the next day, trying to outdistance the rolling wave of wagons behind them. By noon they made a small circle of their fourteen wagons, as all the groups in the large train were doing, and built a campfire where they could have hot coffee and dinner going. James and Mary Ann were glad to have beans, bacon, and corn bread with their coffee. Mary Ann worked with her mother Nancy and the other wives in their group, making their meal as quickly as possible. They needed to stay ahead of that humongous wave of people and oxen behind them. Such a large mess of cattle and people - ten times the size of their wagon train, would use up the firewood, muddy the water and finish off the grass. Later on in their journey, the wagon trains would achieve a regular distance between each other, but for now it was best for them to make haste.

"Courtesy of the University of Texas Libraries, The University of Texas at Austin." Feydey
From The Ox Team or the Old Oregon Trail 1852-1906 by Ezra Meeker. Fourth Edition 1907

image in Public Domain

The emigrants charted their trip by The Platte River. Some traveled west on the north side of the Platte, some on the south side. Some crossed from one side to the other during the journey. The goal was to find plentiful wood for their cook fires, grass for their oxen and other livestock, and clean drinking water for humans and animals. Because the Platte River featured in their travels for a large part of the Oregon Trail, witty sayings arose to describe it. "A mile wide and an inch deep" went one aphorism. Another common description of the Platte River was “too thick to drink, but too thin to plow.” The Great Plains Trail describes the Platte in more detail.

As they journeyed west next to the Platte, James and Mary Ann shared in the common worries of the wagon train company. Would hostile Indians appear and attack? But time revealed that all Indians wanted was to get food or tobacco (although they were not above stealing an unguarded horse or ox).

The real terror of the Oregon Trail revealed itself only gradually, in the increasing number of graves they saw by the side of the trail. They soon learned the name of the dread killer of so many emigrants: cholera! It attacked men, women and children equally. One could be healthy in the morning and dead by noon. There were many ways to die on the road to Oregon: drowning, rattlesnake bite, a stampede, pneumonia from exposure to cold and storms, gunshot accidents, and more. But by far the greatest killer was cholera, which carried off over one out every ten emigrants on the Oregon Trail.

Mary Ann expressed her feelings to James one evening: "If I had realized what dangers would accompany us on this trip, I would never have wanted to come. But I'm glad I didn't know, because I wouldn't want to miss it, either." So the adventurers journeyed on, brave sometimes in spite of themselves, and Oregon Territory grew ever closer.

James Sherrill - Wagon Train Wedding - Pottawatomie County, May 1852

They had planned for this moment for over a year, but now that it had arrived, Mary Ann was shaking like the proverbial leaf. She looked up at T. Burdick, Judge for Pottawatomie County, and nodded as her brother Edward raised his right hand and swore that "everything was legal and right". James took her right hand in his hand, gave a squeeze to encourage her, and spoke the solemn response "I do". Mary Ann repeated the words, "I do", and the judge, having determined they were of legal age or had parental permission, quickly dispensed with the brief civil words that bound James and Mary Ann together as man and wife for the rest of their natural lives. Edward stepped up to kiss the bride. Judge Burdick shook hands with James.

They left the courtroom quickly, giving place to other engaged couples who would be married before starting out on the Oregon Trail. A single man in Oregon could claim 160 acres of land from the government, free if they "improved the land". A married couple could claim 320 acres of land from the government. Judge Burdick was doing a brisk business that 13th day of May, 1852, as wagon train companies prepared to cross the Missouri River and go over 2,000 miles west on the Oregon Trail.

Mary Ann Evan's father and mother, Richard and Nancy Evans, were among the witnesses to her marriage. Her little niece tossed flowers in her path as she walked back to their wagon. The entire company of travelers cheered and applauded James and Mary Ann as they approached the camp. Fiddles and banjos were going, anyone who was not minding children or cooking the meal was dancing, and it was, as Mary Ann declared to James later that evening, "the perfect wedding".

Her mother had already helped Mary Ann move her belongings into James' wagon. Her quilting circle had made her a gift -- a signature quilt. Each quilt block contained the signature of one of the quilting group members, or one of Mary Ann's family who was staying behind. Now it was spread out over new sheets that Mary Ann and Nancy wove. Wearing her white cotton nightgown, embroidered with flowers and bluebirds by Mary Ann herself, with her long wavy hair down over her shoulders to her waist, Mary Ann was a picture perfect bride.

She asked James if they could start their married life by praying together before bedtime. Her father had already told him that would be expected of him, so he smiled and nodded. They would begin their marriage by acknowledging God in all their ways, and asking His blessing on their lives. Their ferry ticket to cross the Missouri was for early morning on May 18th. They were young and strong and filled with joy. Their Oregon Trail honeymoon began tonight.

Surely with all their work and preparation, it would be a wonderful journey. They would reach Oregon Territory by September, and claim their 320 acres.They had left behind the rising controversies over slave states and free states. The newly published and immensely popular book, Uncle Tom's Cabin, couldn't affect them. Oregon was beyond that. They would have it all - a new life, a new family, a new farm and a new home.

Emigrants near Missouri River in 1852 at the Kanesville crossing
near Council Bluffs, Iowa. Jackson, William Henry, 1843-1942,
Courtesy, L. Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library,
Brigham Young University, Provo, UT 84602.

Tomorrow: Crossing the Missouri River

James Sherrill - Wagon Train - Ready, Set, Go!

Wapello County, Iowa - Summer, 1850

"Margaret, who is that tall girl over there with the dark hair?" 

"What girl, James? Oh! You must mean Mary Ann Evans. She is in my quilting circle - would you like me to introduce you?"

And that is how it began, that James Sherrill and Mary Evans got engaged to be married. They were both children of pioneer farmers, who had grown up on the frontier. They started talking with each other at that first meeting after church one Sunday, and afterwards were usually found together, in church, at socials, riding in his borrowed buggy -- it was clear they were headed for the altar. 

Wapello County, Iowa - Autumn, 1851

Richard Evans considered the young man's request, that he be included in the Evans' wagon train when they left Wapello County in the spring next year. James Sherrill continued, "Yes sir, I'll be twenty-two this autumn, and I will have my own wagon and supplies. Yes, I've raised and trained my own oxen. My best team has been together for four years, and my new team has been in training two years. I'll have a team and spare team, and we won't make delays for you."

"You can come with our group if I'm satisfied that you have the necessary gear and supplies ready when I look at it come March. I'll give you a written list - we can discuss the details later. We have about eight wagons that are family, and we'll have to join up with a larger wagon train when we reach Kanesville on the Missouri River. Come to dinner after church Sunday and we'll talk some more," advised Richard, as he climbed into his farm wagon.

No one with any sense set out on the Oregon Trail without getting everything ready. Get the rifles ready - check. Get the lead for bullets ready - check. Get the iron for shoeing the oxen and horses ready - check, check, check, all the way down a very long list of clothes, food, tools, and stuff that would go in the wagon. Wagon - check. Reinforced, covered with hoops, covered with cloth and then covered with water-proof cloth, Loaded with water barrel, hung with lanterns, anything forgotten they would have to do without -- no supply stores for two thousand miles! It was all anyone thought about or talked about for the entire year before they left. No such thing as being over-prepared.

The next  spring, 10 April 1852...

This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
International, 3.0 Unported, 2.5 Generic, 2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic license. by Cgoodwin

Mary Ann leaned forward on the wagon seat, as if to see around the bend in the road. Next they would pass Philomon Johnson's farm, where Margaret Sherrill-that-was Johnson would be waving goodby to her brother James Sherrill - IF he was ready and waiting to join the wagon train as they passed. Oh! Yes! He had hitched all of his eight oxen up to his wagon, instead of tying the four on the second team behind it. Oh how magnificent it looked, and how the great beasts carried their heads, so proudly, as if they knew they made a great sight.

James threw her a smile, and touched the brim of hat as he walked by the head of his lead ox, guiding them into the roadway behind her brother Edward's wagon. They all had agreed on their assigned places as they left town, and each night at camp they would agree on their rotating assignments, so that no one wagon would have to 'eat dust' all the way to Oregon -- they would take turns at taking up the rear of the wagon train.

Mary Ann would have to walk most of the way, as would her fifty-four year old mother, her six year old cousin Mary Kyniston, and in fact, about everyone unless they were infants or sick. For just this day, the women and children would ride, while the men guided the oxen, walking by them as usual. The brightly painted wagons made them look like a circus as they passed down the road. At every farm, the dogs came out to bark at them, and the farmers and farm wives paused from their labor to shout 'good journey' to them.

They wouldn't always have a blue sky, but it was encouraging weather to begin their journey. It would take a month just to get across Iowa to Kanesville, and until they left Kanesville and crossed the Missouri River, they could not even say they had started on the Oregon Trail. Iowa was a state of the United States, since 1846. Across the river -- wilderness, the Great Plains, known for one thing -- emptiness. Once across the river they were leaving civilization for the six months it would take them to get to Oregon Territory.

Tomorrow: a wagon train wedding, section two of Oregon Trail Honeymoon

James Sherrill - Childhood Heritage

 Who was James Sherrill? Who were his people? Where did he come from?

 James Sherrill's heritage was one of Farmers, Pioneers, and Soldiers fighting for their freedom and independence. James' grandfather, Joshua Sherrill, fought the British at the famous Battle of Kings Mountain in 1780. Joshua Sherrill is DAR Patriot Ancestor, A103423. James' great-grandfather, William Sherrill, DAR Patriot Ancestor, A103445, was a Captain in the Battle of Kings Mountain. Joshua Sherrill, William Sherrill, and many others of the name Sherrill, lived in the Catawba area of North Carolina, which was settled by Adam Sherrill and his sons in 1747. At that time there were buffalo, wolves, bears, turtles, deer, elk, quail, rabbits, squirrel and many other creatures inhabiting North Carolina. It was still like a frontier when James was born there in 1830.

James Sherrill's father, Hugh Sherrill, moved his family to Cherokee County, Alabama between 1833 and 1835. By the time James Sherrill was five years old, his family was established on their plantation on the banks of the Coosa River. If the Catawba in North Carolina was still like frontier, the Coosa area in Cherokee County was truly wild country. James fished the Coosa River and hunted the woods for game as he grew older. While his older sisters were learning to spin and weave, James was following his father and older brothers around the plantation, or on hunting or fishing expeditions. It seemed a charmed life, but at the root it was sustained by slavery. Evidently, Hugh Sherrill suffered a revulsion of feeling about that peculiar institution which had been familiar to him all his life.  When Hugh left the South, and his plantation, behind, he patently rejected slavery.

James Sherrill's father Hugh broke with generations of tradition and culture when he moved his family from Alabama to Iowa in 1846, going to live north of the Mason-Dixon line for the first time in his lifetime, and a first in his family. The Missouri Compromise, which passed the US Congress in 1820, established slavery as legal south of the Mason-Dixon line, and prohibited slavery north of the line. By moving to Iowa, Hugh Sherrill made a deliberate choice that went against generations of his ancestors. It was as good as a public declaration against slavery. Hugh gave up the plantation life that he had known in North Carolina, and had continued in Alabama.

Hugh Sherrill's move north of the Mason-Dixon Line was to have repercussions far beyond giving up the plantation. Hugh's older children had married southerners, and they stayed in the south when Hugh moved his family to Iowa. Hugh's younger sons married northern women. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, the Sherrill family was divided by geography, by whether their income was derived from plantations, and by family ties, according to who they married. The men went and fought in the war, and it was literally brother against brother for Hugh's sons. All except James, who left the United States of America in 1852, taking the Oregon Trail over 2,000 miles to the Willamette Valley in Oregon Territory.

Find a Grave, database and images (https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/68278734/hugh-sherrill: accessed 22 December 2022), memorial page for Hugh Sherrill (17 Sep 1792–28 Feb 1849), Find a Grave Memorial ID 68278734, citing Pine Hill Cemetery, Des Moines, Polk County, Iowa, USA; Maintained by Texasnmyheart (contributor 46847602).

But that was years in the future. For now, we find Hugh Sherrill on page 20 of the Wapello County Iowa State Census in 1847. James Sherrill lived at home with his parents, age seventeen, and worked on his father's farm. James' older sister Margaret kept a journal of those years. When Hugh Sherrill died in 1849, at age 57, James went to live with Margaret and her husband, and worked on their farm. Margaret makes a point about her brother James in her journal. She describes him breaking up the sod with a sod plow - pulled by six teams of oxen -- which would be twelve oxen pulling the plow. James must have been a large, muscular young man.

Coming Tomorrow: The Wagon Train Crosses Iowa and arrives at the Missouri River

James Sherrill 1830 - 1913 - his Life and Times

 James Sherrill lived an amazing life:

-- 1830, born to a famous southern pioneer family;

-- 1840, raised on the frontier in Alabama;

-- 1850, grew to manhood on the frontier in Iowa;

-- 1852, married Mary Ann Evans, honeymoon on the Oregon Trail;

-- 1853, claimed 320 acres of land on the frontier in the Willamette Valley;

-- James Sherrill was a pioneer, a farmer, an inventor

-- 1870 Census, still farming his 320 acres near the Willamette River.

-- 1873, invented and patented a new and improved cultivator,

The Albany register. (Albany Or.) February 09 1877
Sherrill's Cultivator and Seeder

-- 1872, moved from his farm in Linn County, Oregon, to Harrisburg, and set up manufacturing for his Cultivator, meeting a popular demand for his invention

-- 1885, moved to Washington where he made another farm out of the wilderness in Chelatchie, Clark County, Washington. The 1885 Territorial census shows James Sherrill, age 54, with his wife, Mary A. Sherrill, age 51, and their two youngest children:  George Sherrill, age 21 and Ella Sherrill, age 12.

--  1887, Clark, Washington. The Census shows James Sherrill, age 56, still in Washington Territory; with him, his wife, Mary Sherrill, age 53, and their youngest child, Ella Sherrill, age 14.

-- 1896, James and his wife Mary Ann (Evans) Sherrill eventually retired to a home in The Dalles, Wasco County, Oregon, where she died in 1896, at age 63.

--  1900, in Harrisburg, Oregon, James Sherrill, widower, age 67, is living with his son Hugh Sherrill, his daughter-in-law America Sherrill, his three grandsons, and a granddaughter.

-- 1910, James, age 77 was living in Island, Union County, Oregon, with Mary E Childers, his widowed sister-in-law. Mary grew ill and her daughter came to take care of her. She died in 1912.

-- 1912-1913, James Sherrill, age 79, returned to Clark County, Washington, where he lived with his daughter Annie, age 58, and her husband Constant Barchus, age 66. Their youngest son Harry Barchus, age 20, and youngest daughter, Floy, age 17, were still at home to make things lively for grandpa James. James was blind by then, and was known affectionately in the neighborhood (which was filled with his grandchildren), as the 'the blind grandfather'.

-- 1913, James Sherrill died 30 Oct 1913, age 82.

Exciting details for each era of his life to follow, beginning tomorrow.

James Sherrill is my great-great-grandfather, as shown in the pedigree snippet below:

Pedigree snippet from Wikitree

                      Reminder - click once on the image to see a large version.
                     Click once more to return to regular view.

Last night, our pioneer family was singing Christmas Carols...

and they are singing again tonight. Indeed, that is all I can say about them this evening, and give you a link to the song they loved to repeat, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", as sung by the Southern Raised Gospel and Blue Grass Band.

James Sherrill got hold of the popular story "A Christmas  Carol" by Charles Dickens, published about ten years earlier, and they were listening to him read a section every night. They came to the part about Scrooge chasing off the caroler who was singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", and they all agreed they must stop and sing it before finishing the story. We now sing the same Christmas song, when it is about two hundred years old.

"We need some music! James? Will you sing?"

 "I've been practicing in the barn, Mary Ann. I figured the cows wouldn't mind if I hit a wrong note."

"Do you think Edward and my father would come over tonight and sing with us?"

"Yes, sweet wife, I have already asked them. They said yes, and Edward is bringing his banjo."

"I'm so glad he brought it with him. He has played it for about ten years -- since he was about sixteen years old. We had a neighbor back in Iowa who played, and agreed to show him how."

"Here they are now." Mary Jane was jumping up and down with excitement. She hugged her grandfather first, and then her uncle. "What will you play first, Uncle Ed?"

"It is nearly Christmas, Mary Jane. What do you think we should play?"

"Away in the Manger, please."

And so they began, with the simple tune every child learned as soon as they could talk. 

"Away in a manger no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head,The stars in the sky looked down where he lay, The little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay.""The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes, 

I love You, Lord Jesus, Look down from the sky, And stay by my side Until morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask You to stay, Close by me forever, And love me I pray,

Bless all the dear children, In Your tender care, And fit us for heaven, To live with You there."

 

NOTE: Away in the Manger was first published in 1895, but it is known to have been sung much earlier than that. Martin Luthur (died 1546) is credited with the tune, and it is unknown if he wrote the lyrics.

It was the dead of winter.

 The geese were long gone to southern lakes. Water here was nearly frozen over in the morning. The days were brief, and the sun made only rare appearances in a steely sky. Getting across the Great Plains and the mountains was the first test, and now they were in the middle of the second test: how to get through day after day of enforced solitude with only each other for company. Mary Ann made the sewing machine her father bought for her to keep humming as long as she had daylight to sew. She rose early to make apple pie, using the dried apple slices she had put up in the fall. She carefully measured out the precious cinnamon and sugar, to make it last through the winter.

Winter was a time to make and create. Mary Ann showed Mary Jane how to braid a rug out of scraps of material. Once it was finished, Mary Jane put it next to her bed, smiling with the satisfaction of having made something herself. James was busy in the evening also, mending the harnesses for the horses, oiling the reins and making safe their way of travel.

They all looked forward to the reading after dinner, when James would  open the big book of Pilgrim's Progress, and the closed in walls of the tiny cabin would melt away in the entrancing story of temptation, and help from God, and overcoming victory. They could all identify with Pilgrim, getting a victory over temptation, and then falling right into the devil's trap, through pride in winning. They knew the way of the Pilgrim, where one could be going along in an ordinary way on an ordinary day, and gradually find one's self in a pit of depression or self-pity. 

In a few months they would be able to work outdoors, in the garden, or visit neighbors and have a quilting bee. For now, it was a time of reflection, of making sure the inner person would be prepared as the outer person, furnished with fitting clothes and covered with humility and grace for adornments. They fed their spirits on God's Word, and they grew strong in the Lord. When troubles came, as troubles surely do, they would be ready Meanwhile, they were their own best entertainment. They sang hymns and folk songs, they made inventive little presents out of wood, or corn husks, or scraps left over from a dress. Mary Ann made a doll coat for Mary Jane's tiny doll, and Mary Jane spent hours taking it off and putting it back on her dolly. 

Coat for 8 " dolly, made by Hilda Nayha
Images by Leo Dauenhauer.

Last Day of the Class on Family Tree Maker.

 Family Tree Maker 2019 v. 24.1 is the program that runs my family tree on my home computer. There are some advanced features I need to learn today, the last day of the class. So far, I've learned things that I didn't think were possible -- because the new version has features that weren't available on earlier versions.

Friday was my birthday, and the class was my present - in advance - from Goldibear. It is surprising to me to discover I can still learn complicated new things at 77 years old. Monday this Pandababy blog will resume daily postings on genealogy and on our family tree.

Pandababy Blog in 2023 will, I hope, be able to present interesting stories out of the 5,000 people in my tree. Some examples are the Quakers who fled to the wilderness that was New Jersey in the 1600s, to have freedom of religion; the Germans who came to America in 1750, and joined the battle for Independence in 1776; The Finnish ancestors who came in 1912, when Finland was under the boot heel of its neighbor Russia: these are just a few of the stories I want to tell in the coming year.

The old saying that history repeats itself is embodied in my family tree. My grandparents left Finland because they wanted the freedom to speak, read and write in their native tongue, Finnish. Russia was doing in Finland then what it is doing in Ukraine now - making people teach school in Russian, giving preference to Russians for government jobs, drafting the young men into the Russian army -- all the same and much more. My family tree is a living example of the indomitable human spirit that cries out in all of us for the dignity of freedom of expression, of religion, of autonomy.

From the Magna Carta Surety Barons of 1215, to the signers of the Declaration of Independence of 1776, my ancestors have embraced the causes embodied in the Constitution of the United States.

Cluster Research Works - the FAN Prinicple breaks down brick walls.

 I made a page at WikiTree for my 1864 Oregon Trail Ancestors -- and included all the Family, Associates, and Neighbors that I knew. After running out of leads about the journey on my ancestors, I started in on their "FAN club". I found two obituaries of people on the Oregon Trail with my ancestors, which have thrown light on the journey. Lucinda Ridgeway  was a young woman at the beginning of her Oregon Trail journey with her parents and siblings. She met and married her husband, Caleb Harnett, about half-way through the trip. They finished the journey to Oregon and raised a family of thirteen children in the Willamette Valley, Oregon. You can read the obituaries on her profile at WikiTree.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, a day the pioneers also celebrated.

 They were thankful for what we might consider basic necessities: warm dry shelter, food on the table at mealtime, shoes on their feet and a warm coat in winter, and work to earn their daily bread. 

After crossing the Great Plains and skirting the Rocky Mountains, the Oregon Trail Pioneers arrived at... practically nothing. Nothing that was like a town back east, nothing that was easily bought at a store, and nothing on the land they came for, except the trees and grass and bushes. They would have to build a house if they wanted shelter, would have to plant a garden if they wanted food. They were farmers, used to hard work, but starting from nothing at all was.... hard.

They built barns to house their cows, steers and horses, and built fences around the pastures to keep them safe. They built the most rudimentary cabins for shelter in the first year, while they had so much work to do immediately on the farm. Some would fail due to ill health or lack of preparation. Some would simply lose heart at the immensity of the work ahead of them, and go back east. The rest would stay and work and prosper. Many who now live in Oregon, Washington and Idaho are descendants of those pioneers who made the great trek along the Oregon Trail. It defined a generation. "Have you seen the elephant?" was their way of putting the trip in perspective -- it was as rare and huge and unimaginable as - an elephant!

Sooner or Later, we have to Pay Attention

to the technical aspects of genealogy in this age of computers. Without the marvels of digitized records and high capacity micro chips, we could not build our large collections of family, loaded with citations and images. All this simply leads up to stability: making sure our records are complete, accurate, safe and accessible. 

I'm spending the last two weeks of November and the first two weeks of December in a class, "Mastering Family Tree Maker". It includes fun things that are not difficult once they're explained, like color coding for the tree and index. It also includes hard things that I don't consider fun, like doing GEDCOM uploads to my database.

Benefits outweigh difficulties: I will be able to print beautiful charts, to print timelines and make a book of ancestors. I'll have everyone in one tree for looking up their facts and images.

I remind myself to have patience.

So has anyone been reading "The Brazen Overlanders of 1845"?

 I have been taking a quick look between homework... I found out WHY there was the rush to land in Oregon. I found what the pioneers were doing a year before they left, to prepare for the journey. I discovered something that rather surprised me -- the wagons were all inspected by the trail masters before they left! To make sure people were bringing what was necessary, to make sure they weren't bringing anything that would be a burden or even a liability (whisky or guns to trade to the Indians). The survival of all depended on the preparation each one made, to be ready to take care of themselves, and feed their families, repair the wagon if necessary (wheels and other things did break).

It was not just an enthusiastic but unprepared group of people leaving for the Oregon Trail -- it was a group of determined, well prepared people who would be able to succor each other in an emergency, but not create needless demands for help along the way.

Explorers leaving Victorian England for a year in Africa couldn't have been more serious or detailed in their preparations, than those overlanders. A lesson to me (maybe to all of us) to be ready for whatever life may throw at you.

Music to match today's blog.  Chapters, by Southern Raised, their original lyrics - worth considering.

Pandababy is going to a class beginning today through Dec 11th, and...

these four weeks may have fewer postings here on Pandababy. The class is on "Mastering Family Tree Maker". I have used Family Tree Maker for years, including its amazing 'sync' feature, but have not been able to take advantage of other technical features. The class, sponsored by Family Tree University, costs $$$, and I plan to be present for all of it.

Now is a good time to review what you may have missed -- this blog goes back to 2007.

It is also a good time to consider what you can add to our digital family tree, whether at WikiTree.com, or FamilySearch.org, or Ancestry.com. Do you have any good pictures you could upload? Or any special family stories you could write down and share?

Maybe there is a podcast or two, or a class, that you want to take. American Ancestors has a treasure trove of seminars, and so does Ancestry, as well as Family Tree University and shorter freebies in the magazine. Some of these are free, some are inexpensive and others cost $$$ - but are worth it.

Don't forget to read the featured book from this blog yesterday. The Brazen Overlanders of 1845 is the best I've seen for explaining the driving forces behind the Oregon Trail immigration. 

The Real, the True, the Raw Story of the Oregon Trail:

Pandababy has published many snippets and/or watered-down versions of the Oregon Trail Journey, as told in various books, newspapers and diaries. I do not look to shock modern sensibilities with what our ancestors endured. However, it is an excellent reality check to get at least for once, a true picture of what they endured. Now, you can read for yourself what "it was really like".

This book is free to download as a pdf, or read online (I recommend the pdf).

The Brazen Overlanders of 1845, by Donna M. Wojcik

This is the best adventure I can send to you tonight. I hope you will enjoy it.

"Tribute to a Strong Pioneer Woman, Hannah (Barchus) Colson Daniels"

Hannah (Barchus) Colson Daniels 1838 - 1916 -- an Amazing Life

Hannah was born on the Ohio farm of Thomas and Sarah (Bacon) Barchus in 1838. In 1848, when Hannah was ten years old, her father Thomas died, at age 35. Hannah's mother Sarah stayed on the farm long enough to be recorded in the 1850 census with her four children.

In 1855, Sarah Barchus took Hannah and her three other children to Marion County Iowa, where they lived with Sarah's brother Samuel Bacon and his family. They are recorded there in the Iowa State census of 1856 -- all but Hannah. She had married Thomas Colson, 29 Nov 1855 in Mahaska County, Iowa. Their son-- John Dudley Colson, was born a year later, on 23 September, 1856.

Thomas Colson died 14 March 1859, age 22. His wife Hannah (Barchus) Colson was three months pregnant with their daughter, Sarah Elizabeth Colson, born 23 September 1859, a post obit baby. Meanwhile, on 19 August 1859, Hannah's mother Sarah married Reuben Daniels (senior) in Mahaska County, Iowa. Reuben Daniels had a son, Reuben Daniels, a bachelor 30 years old. Reuben Jr. married Hannah (Barchus) Colson 25 Feb 1860 in Jasper County, Iowa. Hannah's son John Colson, and her daughter Sarah Colson, would go by the surname Daniels from 1860 until they were adults. 

Bow yokes on a bullock team, Creative Commons License, credit to Cgoodwin

In 1864, Reuben Daniels and Hannah (Barchus) Colson Daniels, along with their two Colson children, and their parents, Reuben Daniels Sr. and Sarah (Barchus) Daniels, with Sarah's two younger children, Caroline and Constant Barchus, plus Sarah's eldest daughter Julia (Barchus) Campbell, her husband W J Campbell, their three young children, W J's father, Alexander Campbell, and various brothers of Reuben Daniels and of W J Campbell, plus the town doctor and other people, left Iowa May 1864, and traveled the Oregon Trail. 2,170 grueling miles later, they settled on farms in Clackamas, and Linn Counties, Oregon, later spreading out to farms in Washington.

Hannah raised five children, and took care of many grandchildren, while helping Reuben run their farm. Reuben died in 1911. Hannah died 13 June 1916, and was buried with Reuben under a monument that says "DANNALS". The family spelled their surname both ways -- Daniels and Dannals, as can be seen on various records. Hannah was only twenty years old when Thomas Colson died. She was a strong woman who raised five children, traveled the Oregon Trail, and made her mark on building this country. 

Hannah, and her family, did not do it all alone. They were Christians who took their faith seriously. They stood by each other with love.

Rock of Ages

Constant walked into the kitchen saying, "Mother, I have bad news. Tom has died of the influenza. I can hardly believe it -- he was only 22."

"He was so sick, I was afraid of this happening. Please go hitch up the horses while I get ready. Our bags have been packed for a week - just in case. Hannah will need me."

Sarah began putting bread and staples in a box, to take with them. She started weeping as she worked, thinking of her little grandson, John Colson, only two years old, losing his father. She soon called herself to order, and said a prayer for peace of mind through this trial. She would be no use to Hannah if she was in turmoil.

Constant came in to eat lunch, hitching the wagon and horses right outside the back door.."It is only a little after noon, so we can get to Hannah's before dark, can't we?"

"It's only eight and half miles, Connie, so we should be fine. As soon as you finish eating, we're leaving. Go find your uncle Samuel and tell him what happened."

"I won't have to go far, I think that is him coming in from the barn right now."

"Then please load these bags and boxes while I say goodbye to your uncle."

"Sarah, what is this about a trip to Hannah's? Is it because of Tom?" 

"Sad news, Samuel. Hannah's husband has died. We thought he was young enough and strong enough to fight it off, but the influenza has taken him too."

"Leah and I already talked about how we could help you if this happened. We'd like Caroline to stay here with her cousins. At seven she's too young to help you and Hannah."

"That would be best, and I thank you, Samuel.  Pray for Hannah. She wrote to me last week that they are going to have another baby in September."

Despite what she told her son, they would have to drive steadily to get there by dark. Getting a fast start helped, and she would push the horses the whole day- no dithering or dallying. Her daughter needed her, so she went. 

The sun went down, and darkness pressed in on them as the dusk faded. The moon peeped above the trees, over half full, but it shed enough light. The road ran straight before them, and soon they would be at Hannah's house. The air cooled down fast with the sun gone. These spring days were so short. Spring. Planting time. What would Hannah do now, a widow only twenty-one years old, with a two-year-old son, and another baby on the way? Well, she couldn't do much about it but pray, and that was what she did, on the long road to Hannah's. Some problems were too big for anyone but God. Sarah prayed for consolation for her bereaved daughter, for wisdom on how to go on, for the means to support Hannah and her children, and for the peace of God to be with them in this time of weeping and sadness.

Sarah's mother Hannah, raised a Quaker, was a woman of quiet and confident spirit. Now those verses her mother taught her when she was a child came back to lift her up, head and heart.  She started humming, and her son beside her began to sing the words, in a soft but steady tenor.. "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee." Constant skipped to the third verse, the one he liked best of all.

"While I draw this fleeting breath,

When Mine eyes shall close in death,

When I rise to worlds unknown,

And behold Thee on Thy throne,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee."

The lights of Black Oak shone out of the night. The Colson farm, on the western outskirts, was shining brighter than them all. Drawing a deep breath of relief, Sarah pulled the horses up to the front of the farmhouse. Hannah was watching for her mother, and came running down the steps, her eyes streaming with tears.

Sarah rushed to catch her daughter in her arms, murmuring words of love and comfort. Now others came from the house, a fine young man and his father by their looks. She recognized them as they came up to offer greetings. It was Reuben Daniels and his father, also Reuben. The father spoke to Sarah, "We don't want to intrude on the family at this time, ma'am, but we're friends of Tom. We didn't know but that Hannah could use our help, with all to do for the funeral."

Sarah gave thanks to God in her heart, for answers to prayers already in evidence. 

Sarah spoke for Hannah and all of them, "We want you to consider yourself part of the family. Tom used to talk about his friend Reuben. You are welcome to stay, and your help will be needed.