My Grandfather, Aaron Jenkins, him and another man
Crossed the mountains, to trap, and look for land.
They went from Louden Co. Virginia, just them alone,
Encamped on a creek which they named Red Stone.

Two or three months they encamped at that place
And all the time they never seen another person's face.
They became tired of trapping and looking around
Thought it best for them to be homeward bound.

Retracing their steps over the mountains just those two men
Arriving save in Louden County, at their native land again.
And the news soon spread, everywhere around,
What a beautiful country those two men had found.

Grandfather said he had made up his mind,
A more beautiful country was hard to find.
If he lived he wished to make that his future home,
But he didn't wish to move to that new place alone.

His neighbors and friends were willing to accompany him,
And they all made ready to move the next spring.
The time appointed they were ready, every one to a man,
And soon was made up a very large caravan.

How do you think they moved to that place so very far,
They couldn't go in a wagon, knew nothing of a steam car.
They had to pack their household goods upon a mule or horse
They hadn't a road, only a poorly blazed course.

Their implements of husbandry they had to take along.
No place to buy any more when those things were gone.
They took a piece of cloth and made it into sacks
Two of these together they would tie across the horses backs.

First thing to put on was a big ugly pack saddle,
The children rode between the sacks, had to ride astraddle.
The men with ax or gun on his shoulder and dog by his side,
And not very often did they or the women get to ride.

For they had to drive their sheep, cattle and hogs,
Along a poorly blazed trail, over the brush and logs.
Some were a blazing a track, others hunting game by the way,
Enough for their suppers and to do them the next day.

A lovely girl took sick, and her they could not save,
And they had to bury her in the wilderness, in a lonely grave.
At length they arrived at their new forest home,
At the little creek Grandfather had called Red Stone.

They found the place clothed in Nature's beautiful green,
Not a house or farm or cultivated spot to be seen.
They had cabins to build, land to clear, to raise their bread,
Alone in the wilderness, and their families to be fed.

After they moved there the Indians got saucy, got worse every day,
And my Grandfather built a fort, to keep them at bay.
The people were very few in the wilderness there alone
The Indians became so mean, the people had to flee from their homes.

They came to my Grandfather's fort to keep from being killed,
But it would not hold them all, and every place was filled.
For Grandfather's Fort, at that time wasn't very big,
I've heard it said nine families slept in one corn crib.

The girls had to be guarded to the fields and back again,
And all the time while milking at the cow pen.
One girl said "Who will stand guard while we milk tonight"
A cousin of my Father's said "I am ready for the fight".

After they had come to the milking place
This same man raised his gun up to his face
Then said to the girl "Now look! I do declare!
If there was only a big Indian lying there.

Just at this time while I am taking sight,
There wouldn't be much left of him tonight"
Not once thinking that there was an Indian nigh,
Was just taking sight at an old Indian's eye.

This it appears is what the old Indian said,
After the war was over, and peace was maid.
He said when the fellow raised his gun to his face,
He thought he had seen him there in his hiding place.

He said when he saw the man raise his gun to his head
He thought in a moment, that himself would be dead.
The next thought, he knew he hadn't seen his face,
When he heard him say "If there was one in that place".

The Indian said it was the longest day he ever seen,
And would have given a fortune to have been home again.
He said he had crawled there just at the break of day,
To lie there concealed, then after dark, to steal away.

The people knew the Indian was telling the truth,
For they remembered the words and actions of the youth.
The Indian said he thought they would see him without fail,
For a man came and bent over him and picked up a rail.

Mr. Morgan in that fort fell asleep on day
And while he was asleep his children went away.
They had left the fort and gone all alone
About two miles to their own home.

Mr. Morgan woke up after his children had gone,
Had dreamed that himself with the children was along.
When he awoke he felt uneasy, hardly knew what to do,
Thought he must look after them wished others to go to.

They told him they didn't think there was anything wrong
And they thought his children would soon be along
And now dear friends to finish my rhyme,
That man dreamed the same even to the third time.

When he awoke at last, said he "I have dreamed the same again just so,
I am going to see after them if there don't another one go".
He felt so uneasy about them that away he went,
And by that time the day was getting pretty well spent.

By the time he got there it was pretty near night
As he thought, then all was getting on right.
His little girl said "At the house I heard a strange noise
It sounded to me like a company of men and boys".

The father looked and behold! Indians! and here they come,
With tomahawk in hand as fast as they could run.
Said he to his children "You must run to the fort,
I'll stand between you and them, you shall not be hurt".

From the old man the Indians were not very far,
And now my children commenced the tug of war.
The old man and the Indians shot at each other
Each expecting at the same time to kill the other.

But as it so happened that same Indian fell,
What to do with the rest, it was hard to tell.
Behold! this man he up and shot another one,
Then jumped behind a tree and reloaded his gun.

He then looked around thought he seen an Indian's head
Then shot at him, as it happened, killed him dead.
I will mention three, I've heard said there was four
I think there was that many if there wasn't any more.

Now here come another Indian which was the last one
With tomahawk in hand, But he hadn't any gun.
The old man's gun was empty, he gave the savage a whack you depend,
That the gun went flying from his hand end over end.

And now commenced you better believe, a fight for life
The man nothing save his hands, the savage a bowie knife,
The man had the Indian's thumb between his teeth so sound
Thinking he had the better of the man that was on the ground.

The Indian done the best he could in drawing from his belt his knife
But the old man snatched it away and took the Indian's life.
The subject is now about ended, before it's all told
I must say that white man was about seventy years old.

In Fayette County, Pennsylvania, was my Grandfather's old homestead
When seven years old I seen that farm long after he was dead.
I seen my Great Grandfather Baldwin's grave after he'd been lain away,
Seen some relics of the fort, and a bake oven all crumbled to clay.

Dear children by these lines you now will plainly see
That my Grandfather Jenkins moved from Pennsylvania to Tennessee,
Grandfather and two sons, by water and by land
All done of course to my Grandfather's command.

Grandmother had poor health and he thought it might be
Better for her and children to go by land to Tennessee.
My Grandmother then left a most beautiful home
Traveled awhile on their way and died in the wilderness almost alone.

My dear old Grandmother and her children three
After traveling awhile on their way to Tennessee
In the Wilderness on their way they encamped at night
My grandmother took sick, and but one house in sight.

The dear old lady took sick, on account of a heavy rain,
And never pursued on her long journey again.
The lady of that house told Grandmother next day
That they were welcome to come to her house and stay.

She said if they would dry their clothes after the dripping rain,
It would be more pleasant for them to pursue their journey again.
Grandmother was among strangers and took very sick and there she died
With but one relative alone, a small boy by her side.

That was my dear Father, just him and her alone
There in the wilderness, and with strangers unknown.
Some strangers came that way and watched by her side,
And stayed until she was buried after she had died.

Grandmother dreamed a dream about a year or so before
That caused her to think her life on earth would soon be o'er
She dreamed she was in a large house and it was after night
And she saw a great many candles and they were burning bright.

On looking around awhile, behold a man she spied
He said they meant the lives from birth until they died
She wished him to show here the one that was her candle
He shoved her one so near gone 'twas very hard to handle

To think of my dear Father just leaving a happy home
To travel through the wilderness for miles and miles alone
They had sent on with the team a sister and a brother
To carry the sad new of their sick and absent Mother.

Only think my Father was only fifteen years old,
How distressing his case, only think, no tongue can unfold,
To leave his Mother buried there in that wilderness alone,
So very very far away from her loved ones at home.

When winter came her loved one came and found
Took up her remains and buried them in the old burying ground.
Now my dear friends we can plainly see
The weary steps and broken heart going back to Tennessee.

From what my Father said, I could very plainly see
My Grandfather only lived four years in Tennessee
For his sons Hiram and Nimrod, he bought three sections of land
For them and their heirs to till at their own command.

Father said while in Tennessee they would go hunting out there
Their dogs would soon find the track of a bear
He said he loved to see a bear on a tree, the dogs around
And to hear the bear fall so heavy on the ground.

Then the dogs would pitch in every one for a fight,
But the bear would soon put every one to flight.
The wouldn't very often go, just one alone,
But enough would go to dress their game and bring it home.

My Father said at that place game was plenty everywhere
Rabbits, squirrel, and turkeys, deer, raccoon and bear.
Panthers so plenty it wasn't safe for a person to travel at night
I've heard Father tell how he had heard them hollow almost in sight.

My Grandfather moved from Tennessee to the state of Ohio,
There he married a widow Garwood, Grandmother to Uncle Joe.
There they all lived, a happy family together.
Six children in all, step Father and step Mother.

Their children's names were, Joshua, Rachel and Jane
Grandfathers three were Baldwin, Lydia and James
After Grandfather died, the old lady moved to her home
That left Father and Uncle James and Aunt Lydia alone.

Soon after Aunt Lydia got married, that left no housekeeper at all
It left Father and Uncle James to keep bachelors hall
Of course when cooking and washing had to be done
It looked too much like there was no housekeeper at home.

So Father likewise wishing to change his life
Thought he must look around and find himself a wife
Thinking at the same time there could be no other
Who would suit him as well as Mary Hackney my Mother.

Now Father in a few years thought it would be for the best.
For him and his family to move to the North west
So after a length of time, him and another man
Thought they would venture as far north as Michigan.

So they soon made ready in company with two or three more
To start for the North West in Eighteen hundred and Twenty four
All coming together as far as Fort Wayne
All But Father, got discouraged and returned home again

Father not wishing to return, but farther on to go
Pursued one hundred miles alone to the banks of the St. Joe
He found Mr. Thompson and family and just another man
Living near those apple trees, just above that big Niles dam.

He looked around, found a place to suit him on Pokagon
Returned home with the hope, in the Spring to come back again
Sure enough, in the Spring, him and another man
Loaded a team with Potters goods and all came to Michigan.

To raise a crop of corn, and then in the fall
Come home and bring my Mother and family and all
In the fall he came home, settled his affairs, made a sale
And to Michigan he thought he must come sure without fail.

The time of our starting, that I do not remember,
I think we landed in Michigan sometime in November
There is one thing I can remember, and I can truly say
My Mother walked, after starting nearly every step of the way.

She never got in the wagon to overload the team,
Except in crossing a river or some small stream
A distance of two hundred and fifty two miles
Landing on the St. Joe just above where now is the town of Niles.

There was one little town on our way I remember very plain.
Not larger than Berrien Centre, They called it Fort Wayne.
I have been there since and nothing looked right,
Only the green woods just as we were coming in sight.

I remember of there coming quite a little skiff of snow
Just before we got to Elkhart, next day we got to St. Joe.
Next morning we were up betimes feeling rather weary
Crossing Coverts creek coming to Beardsleys Prairie.

Then we didn't have but a few miles farther to go.
Till we landed at Mr. Thompson's on the bank of the St. Joe.
There we and another family, stayed with them all night
In the morning we were up by the time it was light.

And we did not go very far, till we crossed a stream of water
And came to mans house by the name of Benjamin Potter,
Stopped with them a few days to rest our weary limbs
And do a little cooking and wash a few things.

I can remember a good many things that happened on the road
One thing very plain it took a long while to get to our abode.
We started so late was on way so very long
We could do no better than to winter in an Indian wigwam.

We had the place swept so very neat and clean
A good earthen floor and not a mite of filth to be seen
There wasn't an Indian to be seen for miles and miles around
They had all gone away to their old hunting ground

That winter we lived pretty hard, very few knick knacks to eat
Very little bread, and most of our living was hominy and meat,
Our bread was made of corn that was very unsound
How it was made into meal? It was taken to a hand mill and ground.

Father would pack the corn on his back and walk eight miles
Grind it on a hand mill, near where now is the city of Niles.
He bought there two barrels of four, that we ate as a rarity
What we did not eat he gave to others, through the act of charity.

I remember it was very cold, the snow was about two feet deep
We would have to go and lift our cattle upon their feet
Take a handful of hay, rub their limbs, drive them all around
To keep them from freezing by lying so long on the ground.

That winter appeared to me to be very severe and cold
The twelfth of April that coming Spring I was just eleven years old
Some things I have forgotten, but I well remember one thing
My Mother and I with a little help milked seventeen cows that spring.

Mother made butter and cheese, to take it to market was a long way to go
Father sold it at Fort Wayne on his way to the state of Ohio.
I disremember the exact weight, I will speak within bounds
If I remember right it was something over six hundred pounds.

A great difference then and now, going to the city of Niles
The distance to Fort Wayne was one hundred miles
And everything we could buy here at that time was very dear
Scarcely anything to be bought in this part of Michigan here.

Mother had to send to Ohio to buy me a bonnet and shawl
For there wasn't a dry goods store near here at all
A Frenchman had a trading post at the mouth of the St. Joe
For to do a days trading was a long way for them to go.

To be so dear with their goods, I don't think was right
I heard some one say the had to give two shillings for a bite
A drink of coffee or tea at that time was very rare
Such things couldn't be bought around here anywhere.

That winter Mrs. Anna Putnam and my dear Mother
Seen many a happy hour visiting with each other
Perhaps Mr. Putnam at the same time looking around
To see if there were any signs of wolves to be found.

We could hear the wolves howl, almost every night,
I seen one catch a sheep, near our door, after daylight.
The first winter Mr. Putnam caught about four,
The next spring he caught one or two more.

After winter was gone and it had become warmer weather
Father and Mr. Putnam concluded to make sugar together
For them to get ready it took quite a good while
Father thought it very strange to make sugar in April.

And well do I remember our making sugar that Spring
Hearing the great owls hoot and the prairie dogs sing.
Running through the prairie, not a house or farm to be seen
Picking wild flowers where the grass was growing green.

Running through the marshes where the grass was growing higher
Watching our cattle, to keep them out of the mire
Just so we had to watch them almost every day
To keep them out of the mire or from running away.

And the snakes, Oh dear! we had so very very plenty
In going to our spring we could see a dozen or twenty.
Crawling in all directions, crawling everywhere around,
And some with their heads peeping out of the ground.

Then we would run home calling for our Mother
Fearing at every step that we would come across another,
Then here would come Mother, running with club in hand
Killing the snakes right and left all over the land.

Some were striped, some spotted, and some black and blue.
And Mother sometimes killed a big massassauger or two
And very often I have heard my dear Mother say
What awful big snakes, she had killed that day.

Our old spring too, was beautiful to behold.
With the water boiling up so pure and so very cold
I have given the beautiful spring a call
Since the farm was sold to Jonathan Mendenhall.

Oh that dear old farmstead, the happy hours there I've seen
And was married to Isaac Murphy when about nineteen
Oh how swift the time has past when I think it o'er
When Isaac and I were married on April Ninth Eighteen hundred and thirty four.

At my Fathers there, I no longer chose to stay
And in a few weeks, I with Isaac moved away.
Not changing the subject, I will say at a venture
To our present home, long since called Berrien Centre.

To build a log cabin right here in the thick woods
And there we stowed away our household goods
And here is where we began our journey through life
Living happy together as beloved man and wife.

And listen to me now dear friends if you please
Our little log cabin was all surrounded with trees
They were soon taken away, cut down at leisure hours
Cut down by Isaac Murphy, Israel Green and John Powers.

The way we had to live would make a fellow laugh
And to our nearest neighbor was a mile and a half
Isaac hadn't dug a well or had time to do anything
So we had to haul water from Adam Michael's spring.

Just before we moved, Isaac had partly laid the floor
And we hadn't either window, or shutter to our door
And in the house we had scarcely anything at all
Even our bed steads he made and fastened them to the wall.

They were made of beach poles, not such as now we see
And the cords were made of the bark of the Hickory tree
And we never had any as sure as you're born
Till Isaac cleared the ground and raised a crop of corn.

And we hadn't a chair, stand, bureau or table
But of course we bought them as soon as we were able
And we had no stove, or scarcely a pot, kettle or pan
One prize I thought I had, was a pretty good looking man.

Our tea was made in a quart cup, made of spice brush wood
And when sweetened well we thought it tasted pretty good
A cake baked, side at a time, and dish of fat meat
Mush and milk and potatoes was the most we had to eat.

I lived in the little log cabin, as happy as any queen
I thought one as happy as I, was rare to be seen.
I lived just as happy, as any body could be,
Yes as happy as the Queen of England away over the sea.

I did not think of living in as good a house as this
And I wouldn't have called for any greater bliss
It seemed to me such a house could not be given
Until we beg a house not made with hands eternally in Heaven.

All alone I would stay, from morning 'till night
And sometimes Indians would appear in my sight
All day long I would stay here by myself alone
Until Isaac from his work would return home.

And once in awhile I could see or hear
A stray wolf of the timid deer
While sitting at my work there one day alone
In that little log cabin here at home.

Now what do you think did greet my eye
It was a nimble deer just passing by.
A pack of wolves came near our door just after night
Gave one tremendous howl, then ran out of sight.

Isaac and Father set traps, and by the time their work was done,
Those two, and Hayden Michael, caught every one;
And if I remember right now to speak,
They caught all those wolves in less than a week.

Sometimes they would bring them tied to a rail
And not one was left to tell the mournful tale.
Not far from here Isaac built a wolf trap,
And in it he caught eleven wolves and a wild cat.

One night Isaac was making sugar, not far from this place
And the wolves cam and howled almost in his face.
That night there was only himself and dog alone
He was about half a mile from home.

He said he was not scared, I presume he felt a little shy
To think those sneaking wolves were howling so close by
The dog crouching at his feet as much as to say
"You had better be careful and keep out of the way".

Isaac went deer hunting one day, he happened to be alone,
He shot and killed four deer not half a mile from home
Sometimes when he didn't have anything to do,
He would bring home a string of fish or a turkey or two.

He hadn't much time to idle his time away
For he had to go about nine miles to make his hay
In the first place he had his land to clear, fence to build anew
And roll the logs, plow and plant the ground to raise corn and potatoes too.

Rails to cut and split, fence to build four or five rails higher
And his cattle to look after to keep them out of the mire
Here we were all surrounded with trees that looked fresh and green
And when we traveled, t'was only a path, not a good road to be seen.

Now to our log cabin again, if you please,
Once standing right here between these two locust trees
There is where I lost my reason and felt so forlorn
And there is where the most of you children were born

There is where we had sorrow and likewise we had joy
With sometimes being blest with a girl and sometimes a boy.
To look at the family record, and there it does appear
We had a brand new baby almost every year.

It appears that was the way until we had four,
When three of them died and we could see them no more,
Three of those children of which I now speak,
Died and was buried in less than a week.

Seven are now living, six can here no more be seen
And one was Martha Ann, when about nineteen
Oh my darling Martha Ann she was so kind to me
I thought she was the best child I ever did see.

She was so kind to her parents, so kind to every one
So kind to the children no matter what they done
She cared for them every hour from morn till night
And missed them so much when they were out of her sight.

I worshipped that child! Oh! I worshipped her every day
I sometimes think that was the reason she was taken away
But how could I help it when I was so very much grieved
Over the loss of my other three darlings I was so bereaved.

And little Mary; she was indeed a most lovely child
She was so modest so meek and so mild.
It seemed that I never could love another one so
When she had to be taken away; how could I let her go.

Mary Elizabeth was the oldest, the next was Martha Ann
The next was Charles Baldwin who never grew to be a man
The next was a daughter, her name was Rebecca Jane
The next was a son John Jenkins Murphy is his name.

The next is Erastus which is another one
Then is our daughter Lydia and Albert our son
The next three is Almeda, Eliza and Ike
The next was Julia and Nimrod, who are buried out of sight.

And here is Ira Miller, Isaac's grand nephew, our adopted one
We think as much of him as if he was our own son.
I think he will always try to do the best he can
And now he has grown up and become his own man.

And now he has chosen a companion for life
And I think she will make him a first rate good wife
They have a little son and they call him Rue
We think the same of him as if he was our own grandchild too.

Our children are good as is common for children to be
At any rate it does appear very much so to me.
There may be some exceptions, if so it is but few,
And if there is any, it won't amount to two.

And now they are all married and settled for life
I hope each and everyone will be good to his wife
In this case I have but little reason to doubt.
If it shouldn't be so, it would so be found out.

Our children are all married and if I understand
Each and every one have forty acres of land
Some have got a good deal more and none have less
And there isn't but a little that isn't of the best.

Dear children, could you have seen Michigan as I did when a child
Not a farm to be seen, all clothed in Nature's wild
Putnam's was our nearest neighbors let us go near or far
And ever after Mrs. Putnam's voice was music to my ear.

I loved to see them that winter, it was so dreary and cold
This dear old couple are gone, died when about ninety years old
I hope I will meet them in that happy world to come
After all our trials of this sinful world is done.

Oh, fleeting time, how swift the years do pass away
Our heads like the old pioneers have become very gray
And very soon the time will roll around
When we like our parents will be lain in the ground.

And when that time arrives, for it is sure to come
May we peacefully say "Father, they will be done".
And harken, His will is to take us to a land of rest
And we with the Saints of Christ will all be blest.