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My grandfather was Captain John Dent, a captain in the Revolutionary War,

My mother's father was William Berkshire. My mother was born atCumberland

on the Potomac and moved to West Virginia when quite young, living thennear

the Dent home in West Virginia. Both of my grandfathers owned beautiful

homes and large plantations in West Virginia. The work was done by negro

slaves, superintended by over-seers. The principal productions were corn,

wheat, tobacco, buck-wheat and flax. Large flocks of sheep were raised.All

the clothing blankets were made at home. Yarn was spun, colored and knit

into stockings. From the flax was made all the household linen, even the

thread that was used being made from the finest of flax.

Although but a little girl of twelve, when I last saw my grandfatherDent's

home, well do I remember it. The house was a wooden structure with alarge

double porch on the front. It was surrounded by trees, and nestled amongthe

beautiful rolling hills. On some of the hills were trees, on others the

fields of flax, corn, tobacco and buck-wheat, while others were coveredwith

grazing sheep and cattle.

The memory of the interior of the house is especially well preserved inmy

mind. In the parlor was a large brick fireplace, with brass andirons and

brass knobbed tongs and shovel. The floor was carpeted with a beautiful

homemade carpet that my grandmother made herself of wool. The chain forit

was so that the chain made it striped. A few pictures hung on the wall, a

fine large clock stood on the floor, a corner cupboard with glass doorsand

filled with china and silverware, used only for company, stood in onecorner

and over the fireplace was a nice mantelpiece with high brasscandlesticks

and ornaments. Among these ornaments was often found a ripe tomato,called

in those days, a love-apple and considered unfit for food. The chairswere

made of hard wood, high-backed, painted pink with green flowers on theupper

part of the backs. A few small tables stood in different parts of theroom,

and the windows were curtained with hanging curtains of white goods.

Grandmother Dent's bedroom opened from both parlor and sitting-room. Itwas

carpeted similar to the parlor. The bed stood at one side. It was a high

posted bed with curtains looped back with ribbon. It was a corded bed,with

small rope laced back and forth in the place of the slats and springs of

today. Over the cord was a tick filled with straw, then a large featherbed,

linen sheets, bolster with fine linen case and knit lace from linenthread,

quilts and homemade blankets and a homemade coverlid of linen knotted in

patterns. The other furnishings of the room were a small stand, twobureaus,

one small and one a six foot chest of drawers, so tall that one had tostand

on a chair to look into the upper drawer, a cushioned rocking-chair, aplain

chair and a large looking glass.

The sitting room was quite large with a corner fireplace and grate. Itwas

around this fireplace that the family loved to gather in the evenings andit

was in the light of the bright coals from its grate that I rememberseeing,

on one occasion, my grandfather Dent and my great-grandfather Evans, whoat

that time was ninety-five years old and who was visiting my grandfather

Dent, and hearing them tell stories of the Revolutionary War, in whichthey

both had taken part. A large dining table stood in this room but it wasonly

used when company came. There were high-backed splint bottomed chairs and

also cushioned rocking-chairs. The floor was carpeted with a home-made

carpet. Half curtains, such as are used now, hung at the windows.

Back of this sitting-room was a large hallway from which the stairway

ascended. There were three rooms upstairs.

The kitchen was four or five feet lower than the other house and had an

entry between. It was two stories high. The negro cooks slept upstairsover

the kitchen. It was called the negro cook's quarters. The cooks wereUncle

Jess, wife and family. The other negros had separate houses, a short

distance from the main house. In the kitchen was a large fireplace wherethe

cooking was done. Chestnut, hickory and oak were used for fuel. Fire was

kept overnight by laying thick pieces of bark on the coals then covering

them thickly with ashes. If the fire went out it had to be started with a

flint as there were no matches in those days. There was a crane in the

fireplace which had several hooks so that two or three kettles could hang

over the fire at one time. The bread was baked in ovens and on thehearth.

There were two cook tables and plenty of cooking utensils in the kitchen.A

little way from the kitchen, on the bank of a small creek, called "Dent's

Run", was a large stone milk-house. There was a spring close by, and the

water trickled from it across the floor of the milk-house, keeping themilk

always cool. On the upper shelves of the milk-house were kept all the

preserves and butter.

In this beautiful home were raised a large family consisting of eightboys

and four girls. Their names were: John, George, Dudley, Enoch, James (my

father), Nimrod, Marmaduke, Evans, Betsy, Nancy, Margaret and Ann Arrah.As

the children grew up and married, they usually made homes for themselveson

or near the plantation of their father, but early in the thirties thespirit

of the West came among them and in 1831 my uncle John Dent, came toIllinois

and in 1832 my Uncle Enoch followed. Then it was that the messages coming

from these brothers so filled by (sic) father with the idea of making ahome

for himself and family in the West that in the fall of 1834 he decided to

leave his Virginia home and settle on the prairies of Illinois. At thattime

Illinois was considered the far West.

It was on the morning of October 5, 1834, that we started overland fromWest

Virginia to Illinois. We had one large covered wagon, called a prairie

schooner, drawn by four large fine horses: Queen, Tameny, Old Dick, andBet.

A large feed trough hung on the back of the wagon and underneath hung a

wooden bucket used for watering the horses. Bedclothing and clothes thatwe

would not need on the way, were boxed up tight in boxes and stowed awayin

the bottom of the wagon. Three feather beds and what bedding we wouldneed

on the way was put into trunks. We had a large box containing a goodsupply

of provisions and dishes. We took some horse feed but father bought mostof

the feed for the horses along the way. He also bought extra provisionsfor

the family as they were needed. We had a gun with a flint and an old

fashioned powder horn.

There were nine of us. Father, mother and seven children. My parentsnames

were: James and Dorcas Dent, the children were: Nancy Ann--14, Emma Jane,

(myself)--12, John William--8, Nelson Bershire (sic)--6, Margaret

Rebecca--4, James Benone--3, and Helen Mary--11 months.

Just as we were ready to start my little brother Ben, came running out

saying, "I want to ride Old Dick, and carry the johnny-cake board."

We had always lived near Morgantown, West Virginia, on the plantation of

Grandfather Dent, and when the time came to leave our old Virginia home,it

seemed very hard to go. Grandfather and Grandmother Dent were franticwith

grief at the thought of the separation from their son and grandchildren.I

can remember seeing my grandfather with his cane in his hand, walking upand

down the walk, unable to keep quiet. My aunt, Ann Arrah and severaluncles

and cousins were there to bid us good-bye. The darkies all cried andwaved

their handkerchiefs. Everyone thought we were going to the end of theworld

and stood small chance of escaping being killed by Indians. When we were

just ready to start one of our cousins came on horseback to see us start,

and my father being so overcome with grief at the separation and sorrowof

the family took the cousins horse and rode several miles ahead, tellingthe

cousin to drive that far for him.

We stopped overnight in a small town where we had friends. In the morningwe

started in earnest on our long journey which now-a-days people travel in

less than twenty hours but which at that time took us five weeks with our

double team. Margaret and William were the only ones of our family thatever

visited the east. Benona was there during the Civil War. We alwaysstopped

at inns or farm houses for our night's rest. My mother used her ownbedding

and did all her own cooking. We always had a warm breakfast and a warm

supper so that our noon meal was the only one we had to eat cold. Someone

always rode one of the horses and drove.

My father generally did so, but when he would get too tired one of theboys,

usually William, would ride while father walked. Nothing happened toalarm

us until after we had crossed the Pennsylvania line. We were going down a

steep hill when Tammeny slipped and fell over the tongue. We were all

frightened but my father jumped off the horse he was riding, picked up a

large stone and put it under the wheel to keep the wagon from pushing onthe

horses. Then he loosened the horses from the wagon and helped Tammeny up.

The horse was unhurt so all the horses were re-hitched and we were soonon

our journey again. Nothing of note happened until we came to the OhioRiver.

We crossed the river on a little ferry at a little town called

Elizabethtown. The horses were very restless while on the river andcaused

my father considerable trouble but we got safely over and stoppedovernight

a few miles from where we crossed. At Zanesville we crossed the river ona

wagon bridge. It was the first bridge we had crossed. All the otherrivers

had been forded or crossed on ferries.

We stayed all night about a mile from the bridge at West Zanesville. Inthe

evening my mother sent William, Nelson and myself after bread and

gingerbread. After getting it, instead of going straight back to ourhotel,

we ran up another wooden bridge and seeing a little house on the bridge,we

ran and looked in. A man inside saw us and told us if we did not run away

quick we would have to pay toll. At this we scampered back in a hurry to

mother with our bread and gingerbread. It was somewhere near Columbusthat

we struck the turnpike road where we had to pay toll. We traveled the the

rest of the way through Ohio on this road. At Columbus we saw the firstfail

we had ever seen.

At Springfield we stopped to get a new supply of tea. We usually stopped

traveling on Sundays and rested. When we crossed the state line intoIndiana

we came to what was called a corduroy road. It was about a mile long and

very rough, being made of logs laid close together. We stopped at Uncle

Lazier's in Newcastle, for two days and while there my mother washed,ironed

and baked. We started on toward Indianapolis. My father had his route all

laid out before he left home. My Uncle Enoch and John Dent had mapped out

the road they had taken and sent it to him. As we went into Indianapolisand

were crossing a wooden plank bridge, one of the horses, Bet, got her foot

into a hole in the bridge and ran a splinter into it. Father took her toa

blacksmith who took the shoe off and removed the splinter. Father thenled

her to the river and bathed her foot but we had to stop a whole day until

her foot was better. When we came to the Wabash River there was no bridge

and the river was too deep to ford and the ferry was on the Illinoisside.

The ferryman had gone home. Father called and called but could not untilit

was almost dark make him hear. He then ferried us over and we stayed all

night at his house. The next day we started in on our last week'sjourney.

The ferryman, Mr. Filson, told us we would have to pass through a twenty

mile stretch of prairie and for us to take drinking water along in jugs.My

father also bought a supply of turnips and potatoes at his place. Westarted

from Filson's ferry and in a short time came out on the prairie. This

prairie was a wonderful sight to us. Nothing in sight excepting the treeswe

had passed near the river, but high waving grass. We were all daycrossing

this twenty mile strip and during the day we saw no living thing but alone

wolf and a few prairie chickens. We children got out of the wagon for arest

and breaking off rosin weeds, used them for playing guns and shotimaginary

Indians and prairie chickens, as we ran along by the side of the wagon.

In the afternoon my father discovered a prairie fire and that it wascoming

toward us. He hardly knew what to do but decided it would be best to keepin

the road and go on til we met it. He told us to cover up the middle ofthe

wagon. Mother was with us. In a few minutes the fire met us, father,sitting

on his horse driving, whipped up the horses and drove through the firewith

all his family crying in the wagon, frightened nearly to death andwishing

that they could turn and start back. When we got through the fire father

took his blacksnake whip and beat the fire out in the grass that hadalready

been burned and they rubbed down the horses and petted them and let them

rest awhile. Then we traveled on until we came to the home of a familynamed

Butler. We stayed all night there. We were very tired but felt sothankful

that we had escaped from the prairie fire with so little damage.

For several days we traveled along with nothing of importance happening

until we reached the head of Painter's Creek, from there we were to start

across a fifteen mile tract of prairie. We stopped at the creek to waterthe

horses and noticed a great many little willow switches. My father cut off

some and gave them to us children. My mother, William and my oldestsister

Nancy, all got out of the wagon leaving us little children in the wagon

alone. The lines were fastened in some way to the harness when the horses

became frightened at something, probably a switch in the hands of one ofthe

children, and started to run away. My father tried to catch them but was

unable to do so. They ran for four or five miles, we children frightened

nearly to death. In some way the end-gate opened up and the package of

bedclothes kept there being jolted out. Father kept running, trying tokeep

the team in sight. Mother followed him with the two older children,picking

up the things that had dropped out and carrying them until her arms were

full, then they made a little pile of them and sat down to wait untilthey

could know the result of the run-away. We younger children, in the wagon,

thought of the brilliant idea of following the example of the packagesand

dropping out of the back of the wagon too. We first dropped into the feed

trough and then the jolting of the wagon soon jolted us to the ground. Ilet

the younger children jolt out first, as I was holding the baby andfinally

when I did drop out in my effort to shield the baby, I hurt my arm sobadly

that I could not use it for several weeks. My father met my brother and

asked him how he got out. He replied, "I fell out." Then in response tothe

question as to whether he was hurt or not, he replied, "No I rolled away

from the wagon." Finally the team grew tired and stopped running alongthe

road and began running in a circle being on the prairie. My fatherhastened

to them. He then turned them back and picked up his scattered family and

household goods. This put us back so that we made only fifteen miles that

day.

We arrived at Crow Creek and stayed all night there. The next morning we

were anxious to start as it would be the last day of our long journey. We

soon struck the Meridian line and following it until we came to UncleEnoch

Dent's stone quarry, on Sandy Creek. We arrived there about twelveo'clock

and when we came in sight of the house we saw two of the boys, John and

Evans, unloading corn from a wagon into a corn crib. When they saw us one

said to the other, "There comes Uncle Jimmy." Then Evans ran to the houseto

tell his parents of our arrival.

By the time we reached the house they were all out to greet us and to

welcome us. It was the 8th of November, 1834, when we arrived at Uncle

Enoch's. There was great rejoycing (sic) over our safe arrival. Then themen

went to care for the horses and Aunt Judith went to getting dinner, with

mother helping her and visiting while they worked. Of course the dinnerwas

a fine one and after dinner the boys brought in two fine watermelons that

they had been saving for us. The year had been prosperous and they had

plenty of prairie hay, corn and vegetables that they had raised. In those

early days everyone choose (sic) timberland, little knowing the value ofthe

prairie land at the time.

Uncle Enoch lived in a one-room log cabin with a garret above which was

reached by means of a ladder and as his family was large, as also wasours,

we did not stay long with him but as soon as we could arrange it, movedto a

home of our own nearby and into a similar structure, to that of Uncle

Enoch's. It was almost impossible to get furniture anywhere without going

twenty miles for it, either to Laconer or Hennepin and then only the

cheapest, crudest kind and as father had to lay in a supply of feed forthe

horses for the winter and wood and provisions for his family before the

weather grew too cold, he didn't have time to go, so he made a table outof

the dry goods boxes that we had brought along. We had two chairs that we

brought with us and father made three-legged stools. Then Uncle Enochloaned

us a few chairs to use until father could go after furniture. Mother made

curtains of the sheets and calico, divided the upper room into bedrooms.She

made little draw-string curtains for the two windows. Everything lookedreal

cozy. Occasionally, though, Mother would feel so homesick for herVirginia

home that she would take a good cry. The first one was when she did her

first washing. She had always been used to soft water and did not knowhow

to break hard water.

There was no school near that winter and so we all stayed home. It was

nearly Christmas time when there came quite a snowstorm. Captain Hawe and

wife, who lived three miles from us, and our Uncle Johnny Dent and his

daughter Susan came to spend the evening. Father sent over for UncleEnoch

and Aunt Judity to cover over too. Captain Hawe and Uncle John Dent both

told wonderful stories of the Black Hawk War, in which they both hadserved.

We older children listened with great interest and while thestory-telling

was going on in one part of the room, mother was preparing a fine supperby

the fire-place, consisting of warm biscuits, roasted spare-ribs, homemade

sausage, coffee, doughnuts and pie.

And such was life in the new country. It was a life of privation and

hardships in many ways but after all a happy life. Many changes have

occurred since then and I can scarce realize, when I look around me nowthat

such changes could have been accomplished even in the seventy years that

have passed. The waving prairie grass can be seen no more, but we cannot

regret its loss, when we see the beautiful farms, homes and cities that

stand where it once waved.

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