The Trumbull Family History
By Freda Francis Trumbull, Belle Center, Ohio, 1975
This is the saga of the Trumbull family – as much as the author can recall of members she has known in her lifetime or has heard from older members she has known in her lifetime or has heard from older members. In the first place the name “Trumbull” is a “misnomer” – the name is actually TURNBULL and was given to a legendary ancestor by a Scottish king whose life was saved when a strong Scotchman grabbed the horns of a bull charging the king and turned the animal here into a river flowing alongside the path over which the king was riding. His deliverer was promptly dubbed by the king Sir John Turnbull. The first one of the name to settle in New England had his name mispronounced so often that it finally emerged Trumbull.
In the summer of 1936, my mother (Harriet M. Trumbull) and I spent two weeks at Winona Lake, Indiana, and roomed at the home of an “authentic” Trumbull family. Mr. Trumbull had worked on the family tree and there was absolutely no place where our so-called Trumbull ancestors fitted in. On the other hand, I had a college class-mate who was a Turnbull and he told the same story of the origin of our real name as I have related above. I would wish that someone of our tribe would have the name restored to its original spelling – Turnbull.
The first of our ancestors in this country was Robert Trumbull who was born in the parish of Cambuhlany near Glasgow, Scotland in 1754. He was left an orphan and lived in the home of an uncle until he enlisted in the British service and was sent to help put down the rebellion in the American Colonies.
He arrived about the time of the Battle of Bunker Hill and was set at digging a trench that evening. He spent three years in the British army but after the Battle of Long Island in which the British were victorious. Robert deserted to the Americans, hiding all day in a swamp. He heard two British soldiers, who may have been looking for him, pass by closely enough for him to catch the remark made by one of them, “Trumbull is probably eating his supper tonight with the Yankees”.
In the American army he was assigned duty that did not compel him to fight against the British-guarding against Tory defection. He served in the army for three years and in later life was given a pension of $96.00 a year.
There is not information concerning Robert Trumbull in the years right after the war, but at some time he became a friend or follower of Colonel Ebenezer Crafts of Sturbridge, Massachusetts, and met and married Lucy Babcock of Woodbridge, Connecticut.
In 1780, Colonel Crafts, with a group of other pioneers from Massachusetts, petitioned the State of Vermont for a tract of unappropriated land within the state for the purpose of settling a new plantation which would later be formed into a township. The petition was granted.
This information is taken from “CraftsburyMetraux” given to me by the librarian in Craftsbury Commons.”
On May 27, 1788, Colonel Crafts cleared 10 or 12 acres and built a house on what is now called Trout Brook. He also built a sawmill and made preparations for a grist mill at the foot of Ketchem Hill.
During the summer of the same year Nathan Cutler, Robert Trumbull, and Ashbel Shepherd moved their families into the settlement, locating in the eastern part of the tract. Late in the fall of that year all the settlers but the Cutler, Trumbull, and Shepherd families returned to Sturbridge. Soon afterwards Robert Trumbull, because of illness in his family, was forced to remove to Barnet, Vermont.
The Spring of 1789 brought Col. Crafts and Robert Trumbull back to the respective farms.
The Congregational Church was organized on July 4, 1797, with 25 members, including the pastor, Reverend Samuel Collins, who served for seven years. Robert Trumbull’s name was on the membership list. In 1802 money was raised and a Meeting-House built. In 1804 Mr. Collins resigned and from that year until 1822, Craftsbury has no settled minister. However, during the year 1818 the Meeting House was occupied in rotation by five different sects: Congregationalists, Baptists, Covenanters, Universalists and Methodists.
Robert Trumbull heard a Covenanter minister from Ryegate, liked the sermon he preached, and united with that church. According to the “Craftsburg Chronicles” in 1818 the Reformed Presbyterians (Covenanters) organized a church with twelve members. It was not until 1833 that their first pastor, Samuel M. Wilson, was called and ordained. East Craftsbury (4 or 5 miles from CraftsburyMetraux) had been largely settled by sturdy Scotch people and the church was located there.
Little is known of the children of Robert and Lucy Babcock Trumbull with the exception of James, the eldest, who was born before the family moved to Vermont. Besides James, there were Mary, Nancy, Clara, Augustus, John King, and Robert II. John settled on a farm near the home place. Robert was sent to the University of Vermont at Burlington. Augustus died of fever early in life. James settled on the home place.
Robert Trumbull Sr. died at the age of 86 in 1840 and was buried in the cemetery at Craftsbury Commons. His is the only name carved on the tombstone, which has weathered considerably, and the inscription is difficult to read. It is quite likely that his wife also died in the home there and would be buried by his side.
As has been said, James, the eldest son of Robert Trumbull, lived on the farm his father had settled. He married Janet Peet, who had been born in Scotland. Her father was a blacksmith who came with his family to America when his children were small. To James and Janet were born Robert Hamilton, Mary, Annie, James, and Kate (Catherine), (besides several who died in infancy according to Aunt Pen’s account).
Robert Hamilton Trumbull was my grandfather. His brother James must have been the one who went South, married, and later fought in the Confederate Army. I don’t believe there was any communication between the two brothers in adult life. I can’t remember of ever hearing Grandfather mention his brother.
Annie married a man by the name of Green and had a son whose name was Maurice. She used to come from her son’s home in Cincinnati to visit Grandfather and stay for several weeks in the summer. We never saw Maurice or his wife Hattie, but my mother corresponded some with Hattie; perhaps because mother had the same name (really a nickname as mother’s name was Harriet). Great Aunt Annie was a petite, small white-haired person as I remember her. On one of her visits she brought me a beautifully dressed doll with hair and eyes that opened and closed – the nicest doll I had ever had. Aunt Annie was fond of fresh buttermilk and when Mother churned she would send a small bucket with one of us children to Aunt Annie. I can remember the old lady sipping it daintily from a cup and saying, “I like buttermilk better than beer”. She didn’t pronounce the “r” at the end of the word and we children delighted in mimicking her remarks.
Mary was an attractive dark-haired lass with a merry laugh. She married a Dr. McGowan and died in childbirth as did the infant. They are buried in the Northwood Cemetery. Dr. McGowan, who had come from England returned there and married and reared a family. I have a hazy recollection that someone said he settled in Manchester and practiced medicine in that city.
Kate was the youngest member of the family and was badly spoiled. She was born (according to one of my aunts) when her mother was fifty-four years of age. My grandfather said he was twenty-five when she was born and that he took her swimming before she was a year old. The Trumbull farm, at that time, was either on the shore of Lake Memphramagog in the province of Quebec, or close enough to the lake that the children could easily go swimming in it. Grandfather claimed that baby Katie learned to swim. She married a Charles Clifton who was a government employee and they lived for many years in Washington D.C. They had a son Harry. It must have been after Mr. Clifton’s death that Aunt Kate moved to Pasadena, California. Harry lived there and I think he was a teacher as was his wife Marian. They never had any children. Harry died a number of years before his mother did and Marian was good to look after her mother-in-law, seeing that she constantly had a companion. Neither Aunt Annie nor Aunt Kate were fond of their daughter-in-laws and one wonders of there wasn’t some jealousy on their part when they saw their only sons’ affections transferred to another woman. Both Aunt Kate and Aunt Annie must have died in the 80’s.
Now I shall return to Aunt Pen’s account of the James Trumbulls who had sold their Vermont farm and moved to a farm not far from the Christie farm near Lake Memphramagog. The Christies had moved to their farm on the lake from northern Vermont near Derby Center only a few years before, having emigrated from Scotland. Aunt Pen’s words follow:
“It was a spring day in 1840 that my father and mother had a call from Captain James Trumbull, just moved from Craftsbury, Vermont.”
(We have no idea where the rank “Captain” was earned. It could have been in the War of 1812 or some Indian skirmishes or perhaps only an honorary title.)
“I remember Mr. [James] Trumbull as a tall, slender, dark-haired, black-eyed, regular featured, fine looking gentleman. He introduced himself and said he had moved lately into the place and wanted to get acquainted with his neighbors – especially those who were Scotch and those who were religious. He told of his denomination – the Covenanters, but of his desire to fraternize, as much as his church order would admit, with all who were professed Christians. Mr. Trumbull told of his children: Augustus, who had died when a small boy; Robert Hamilton, now in his sixteenth year; Mary, the oldest daughter – fourteen; then Annie, James, and Johnnie Cargill. Mr. Trumbull was very animated and made whatever he talked about very interesting. The visit was returned by my father, and very soon there followed delightful visiting back and forth between the inmates of the Christie and Trumbull households. Books were loaned between the families, and how very interesting some of them were: The Whigs of Scotland, History of the Covenanter Persecution, Mungoe Park’s Travels in Africa, History of Scotland, Gulliver’s Travels, the Last of the Mohicans and Arabian Nights Entertainment.”
“In 1850 the establishment of Geneva Hall at Northwood, Ohio, and the influence of relatives in connection with that institution, as well as the desire to live among those of his own denomination, led Mr. Trumbull to move ot Ohio. Some years before they had parted with their youngest, Johnnie, whose remains lies in Lakeside graveyard, not far from their home. Another inmate had come, a daughter, who was given the name of Katherine.”
“Mr. John Trumbull, who had been living near Georgesville also, decided to go West, too. These families were parted with reluctantly.
“When Mr. Trumbull, Sr. left Canada, his son Robert H. remained on the farm along with his sister Mary. A few months after the migration of his family, Robert formed a new tie, carrying out what had probably been in the heads and hearts of both Sister Katie and himself for some years. This marriage took place at our home in Magoon’s Point on October 3, 1850. It was a rainy day, but the invited guests came – one party from Vermont. An aunt to Robert by marriage wore his wedding boots, which were fine ones across the border, thus cheating the Canadian customs of a trifle. Mrs. Kendall, a pretty, large, Vermont woman tells this story whenever she meets any of Mr. Trumbull’s relatives.”
“Sister’s wedding dress was a simple white “Bishops Lawn”, and she had a black silk to go out in after marriage. The little wedding party went home with the bride and the groom, and there was an evening reception. They had the wedding dinner at Katie’s home. Thus it was quite an all day affair.”
“James, little Jimmie,” arrived in the new home in February, 1852. He was like the Hiland man’s first child, “The handsomest baby in the whole world!” This was something of the way Jimmie’s relatives viewed him.”
“In 1853 this family, too, sold out and moved to Ohio. This was a saddening to the friends in Canada, but by correspondence and frequent interchange of visits through the years, interest and affection was maintained. Jimmie came back twice to his grandfather Christie’s, but from his second visit he never returned to Ohio. He died from scarlet fever when a little more than six years old. He, too, rests in Lakeside graveyard where the largest part of his mother’s family is buried. After the death of James, the family of Robert and Katherine which then included John and George, was increased by Annie, Margaret, and Jennie. It was in the old log house by the creek that John, George, and Annie were born.”
“The new house was built in 1861, that marked year in the civil affairs of the country. The North and the South were at war with each other. The house was completed and furniture and family were moved into it the latter part of November.”
“There was no housewarming or fete given that occasion until the 11th of December at which date a few friends were invited, not so much to feast in the new home as to welcome a new inmate to the residence. The little girl who arrived then was called Margaret Emma. The invited guests on the occasion were Dr. Moses Wilson, Mrs. Janet Keys, Master Samuel Keys, and a dear old lady, called Grandma Forsythe. Aunt Penelope, who was there as a member of the family was assisted by “Aunt Edie”, a venerable woman of sable hue, as she served midnight tea on this occasion to these friends, after which they left for their homes except Mrs. Forsythe who stayed until the new day appeared.”
“When Margaret Emma was in her third year in May, 1864, she went to visit Grandma Forsythe. She was there all day and expected to stay for the night, but her father came before midnight to take her home to see a new little sister who had been given the name of Jennie for her grandmother who with Grandfather Trumbull was living in the village of Northwood about a mile from their son’s home. Later, the last years of the grandparents were spent in the son’s home on the farm.”
“Life in this family, with all its varied events, went on for a quarter of a century, and then the silent reaper entered and took one with him – the mother. On the morning of October 5, 1888, there entered into rest Catherine Christie Trumbull in the sixty-fifth year of her age – and two days past the thirty-eighth anniversary of her marriage.”
Thus ends the account of the Robert Hamilton Trumbull family by Aunt Penelope Christie Ridell, the youngest sister of Grandmother Trumbull. I am indebted to Kitty Boynton Dixon for sending this account to me. She had found it among her first husband’s papers. Late in his life, George had married Kitty and they had two sons, John and Gordon. Sometime after George’s death Kitty had married Henry Dixon. Georgy was the son of Adam and Anna Christie Boynton. I think Aunt Pen lived with the Boyntons after the death of her own husband. The Dixons lived in Georgeville in a house that I believe Aunt Penelope had left to George. I called on Kitty in 1960 and she showed me over the house. She also took me to a church nearby which had been built on land donated by Aunt Penelope. I also learned from Kitty that there was a cemetery in the area that had many stones with the name Trumbull on them.
The Boynton boys, John, George, and Charles were cousins of my father. George and Charles had visited in Ohio. John married earlier than the two brothers and moved to Boston, Massachusetts. Adam Boynton’s family had moved into the Lake Memphramagog area about the same time as the James Trumbull family had settled there.
As children, we three members of the John Trumbull family had an opportunity to learn much about our ancestry but “We couldn’t have cared less”. Our grandfather was Robert Hamilton Trumbull, the grandson of Robert Trumbull who had defected from the British army. We never even asked about his own father or his aunts, uncles and cousins. It is possible because of the pace of life in this country in the 20th century and the involvement in work, church, and social life, that each generation has little interest in its roots. However, on the chance that some Trumbull offspring would like to know something of his forbears. I purpose to write what I have discovered of or experienced with two preceding generations.
By grandfather Robert H. Trumbull was of medium size, had white hair as long as I knew him, a short beard, dark eyes and rather black bushy eyebrows.
When Grandmother Catherine Christie Trumbull died in 1888, two of her children were still living at home, the eldest son John, and the oldest girl Anna Mary. The latter had impaired hearing, dating back to a case of scarlet fever in her early teens. She was able to use a hearing device – a long tube with a mouthpiece on one end and a plastic tube (more likely rubber tube at that time) on the other end which she held in place to her ear. Finally she heard no sounds whatsoever and we communicated with her either by writing, or spelling words on our fingers by an alphabet which she herself taught us.
On December 4, 1889, John Christie Trumbull married Harriet Jane Mansfield, a young woman who was twelve years younger than himself and took her to live in a house of five small rooms which has been built for the newly married couple on the Trumbull farm. Only a large garden and orchard separated the two houses.
In 1853, when Grandfather Robert H. Trumbull came to Ohio, his father had already purchased a farm but he apparently moved into a cottage in the village of Northwood where Geneva College was then located. Grandfather, with his wife and small son Jimmie, moved into the house on the farm. The house was a log cabin built on a slight elevation above a creek which cut through a part of the farm. At the foot of the elevation was a spring of good water which no doubt explains the location of the cabin. Across the creek to the east of the house a short distance was a rather large grove of maple trees which were tapped to make maple syrup for family use.
While the family was living in this log cabin three children were born: John on June 29, 1854; George Augustus on December 25 in 1875, and Anna Mary in 1859 on July 16. John recalled in later life, sleeping with his brother in the loft of the cabin with the snow sifting through the cracks between the logs.
Oxen were used to cultivate the fields, haul wood for the fireplace, and other heavy jobs about the farm. In time they were replaced by horses. (mules?)
In 1861, as Aunt Pen related, the family moved into a new house, much more commodious than the cabin by the creek. This house consisted of five rooms on the first floor, a pantry and a utility room or woodshed behind the kitchen. The kitchen and woodshed formed an “L” on the north of the house, and a porch ran from the kitchen over half way on the western side of the house; while a verandah ran the full length of the front of the house.
The kitchen was a large room with a large fireplace on the western side, a wood box to the left of the fireplace and a cupboard reaching from the floor to the ceiling on the right. There was plenty of space in this large kitchen for a dining table as well as work tables. A pantry opened off the kitchen with a waist high shelf across one side and two floor-to-ceiling cupboards on the other side. One had to pass through this pantry to enter the rest of the house. The first room entered was a long, rather narrow living room with two windows, one looking out on the porch and the other, near the end of the room, also faced the west. A door at the end of the room opened into a small bedroom. There was a closet which was located behind the cupboard side of the pantry. A door midway down the west side of the room opened on the back porch. On the east side, just opposite, a door opened into the parlor, and to the left of this door, another door opened on steps leading to a large one-room cellar with a window. Altogether there were six full-size doors in this room which made the use of more than a few pieces of furniture impossible.
The parlor was also a long room with a door and window on the front porch and a bay window taking up most of the southern end. To the right of the front door was a space in which a door opened into a bedroom of fair size. Another door opened in this space to an enclosed stairway leading to the second floor which consisted of one large bedroom across the width of the house on the north and two small rooms on the south with a hallway through the center and along one side of the staircase. A large closet was enclosed at the back of the hall.
The house had three chimneys – one for the fireplace in the kitchen, one for the north bedroom on the first floor and the larger bedroom above it, and one that was shared by both the living room and the parlor. The stoves which Grandfather favored were airtight sheet iron stoves that heated quickly and could keep coals alive in their ashes all night.
This commodious house (with only two closets – in a day when builders never, or scarcely ever, thought of closets) must have seemed like a palace to Grandmother after living for eight years in a log house. A well was dug for drinking water and a cistern had been made before the back porch was completed and water could be drawn from it on the porch. This was much better than carrying spring water up a steep incline, or taking clothes to the creek to wash.
Meanwhile, the country was embroiled in the Civil War. Even though news was scarce and there was no rural mail delivery, the community knew of the tension between the North and the South, for slaves travelling to Canada by way of the underground railroad “were sheltered” in caves on farms between Northwood and the village of Cherokee a few miles to the south.
Grandfather Robert Hamilton enlisted in the Ohio National Guard in 1863. The 132nd Regiment of National Guards drew seven of its ten companies from Logan County. These troops were called out by the President for three months and left for Washington D.C. on May 22, 1864. Grandfather’s Company I was officered by Colonel Joel Haines, Lieutenant Colonel John J. Patten, Major Andrew P. Meng, and Surgeon Wm. J. Sullivan. Grandfather was the provost sergeant of his company. The regiment arrived on May 24 and was ordered into camp at Fort Albany. Later it was assigned duty at the White House, then at the Bermuda Hundred, the Third Brigade, the Third Division. Many of the men of The 18th Army Corps suffered from sickness, of fatigue, and picket duty. On August 12 it was transferred to Norfolk; returned home via Washington and was mustered out at Camp Chase, Columbus, Ohio, on the 10th of September.
Grandfather Robert was among the veterans who received a monthly pension. None of us ever questioned the amount but I presume my father knew. It provided Grandfather a little spending money in his later years.
Grandfather Robert was a friendly man and during his lifetime there was time to visit – a trip to town to get the mail, transact a little business at the bank, wait for the women folk to do their shopping, or sell the butter and eggs at the grocery and select supplies for the ensuing week – all this took the greater part of a day – an entire day if the trip was made to Bellefontaine, where the horse was put up at a livery barn and fed the oats taken by the owner for the noon meal.
Grandfather Robert was not averse to dropping into a tavern for a drink with some of his friends. I have heard my father tell of his embarrassment in waiting outside on the seat of the spring wagon until Grandfather was ready to emerge and start for home. Grandfather drank a little liquor all through his life but I never heard of his doing it to excess. In fact, in the earlier years of his life even Covenanter farmers served whisky to the harvest hands, and part of the ministers’ salaries was often paid with jugs of whiskey.
As the five children grew older they attended school at Beechwood, so called because the school house was built on the edge of a woods, the most of whose trees were beech. Their school mates were the Keys, Laughlin, and Alexander young people. Descendants of all three of these families are living in the community today (1975) and, with the exception of the Alexander descendants, are on the original farms.
I want to tell more of Grandfather Robert Trumbull as I remember him. He was fond of his grandchildren and would come to our house quite often. In the winter time he would carry me on his back to his house and deposit me on the back porch from whence I would scamper into the house to see Aunt Annie who always had something for me to eat – a homemade cookie or a crusty doughnut rolled in sugar, or a piece of her wonderful home bread with butter and jelly.
Grandfather’s in-laws, some of whom were still living in Canada near his old home on the shores of Memphramagog, would often send him a box of maple sugar and some chunks of spruce gum, the latter a residue which exuded from the bark of the tree and became hard and crystalline after exposure to the air. When put into the mouth and softened by saliva it was a very good substitute for Wrigleys Spearmint. In fact it was more healthful and had a flavor that lasted until the gum was discarded. Since it took me quite a while to soften the hard substance, Grandfather would kindly do it for me. Since he chewed tobacco, my gum was not only spruce flavored but had a touch of “Burleigh” as well. Nobody thought about germs in those days.
Grandfather Robert purchased beautiful red woolen material for a dress for me and I remember a pair of shoes with patent leather toes that was a gift from him, and one year there was a ring with a white set surrounded by red stones.
At Christmas time, the big fireplace in the kitchen which was no longer used to heat the kitchen, was opened up and a glowing fire was kindled in it. Stockings were hung from the mantel and we were invited to help celebrate the event. There would be oranges, nuts, candy, crocheted hoods and mittens, or a dress or apron from Aunt Annie’s skilled fingers. Sometimes there was a doll which she had dressed. She loved to make doll clothes and each garment was exquisitely fashioned.
Grandfather Robert was very fond of his youngest grandson. When this child was born, he requested that the boy be called James in memory of his own little boy who had died in Canada as related earlier in this manuscript. The two became great pals and “Jimmie” was a good listener to Grandfather’s oft repeated stories of his youth or his reminiscences of his short term experience in the Civil War. Having become well acquainted with these stories, Jimmie could supply details or correct aberrations where Grandfather’s memory failed him. Jim recalls that Grandfather would ask the first thing in the morning, “Which direction is the wind blowing?”. From the answer he would reckon the weather for the day. In the winter when the days would begin to become noticeably longer, Grandfather would quote, “When the days begin to lengthen, then the cold begins to strengthen.” February the second, Groundhog Day to us, was Candlemas Day to Grandfather and by that time in the winter “half the corn and half the hay” would have been fed to the stock kept in the barn and sheds for the winter.
While he was still physically able, Grandfather woud help with the work. Most of the corn was cut by hand, but first “galluses” had to be made around which the tall stalks of corn were placed in an upright position. The “galluses” were made by tying together stalks of corn, firmly rooted in the ground, opposite each other, in the center of a plot hills in length and hills in width. These stalks were placed uniformly around the “gallus” and a single stalk was tied around the tops two or three feet below the tips. The shocks of corn when completed resembled Indian wigwanis and furnished shelter for rabbits or game birds, until the corn was husked. Cornfields were much smaller in those days of horse-drawn machinery and the work of harvesting the corn was much more easily accomplished by four hands than by two. The husking was done in the field in late fall if the weather permitted. Sometimes a part of the corn stalks were left standing and the ears were separated from the husks which covered them and tossed into the bed of a one-horse wagon which faithful old Dolly pulled down the outside of the corn row. If the corn was husked from the shock the shock was laid lengthwise on the ground and the men, if two were working, sat or knelt on opposite sides, and pulled off the husks and tossed the corn into a pile, which was covered, when completed, with the stalks that were bare, or if the weather seemed to be stable for a few days, the corn could be left uncovered until the famer had time to haul it to the corncrib where it was stored for winter use.
Grandfather Robert nearly always would show his friends the corn in the crib, the steers fattening in the barn lot, the wheat in the bin in the granary, or if they came in the summer time, they would have to see this garden and the trees loaded with fruit. We youngsters had the job of turning the handle which moved the large cylindrical wheel of the grindstone when Grandfather sharpened his scythe or sickle. He hated weeds and may of them fell before his keen scythe.
As long as he was able, he was a good gardener and took special pride in his potato patch. His own grandfather had introduced potatoes into the colony of settlers at Craftsbury and raising good potatoes may have been a family tradition. He pulled the dirt up around each hill with his hoe to conserve the moisture and declared war on the bugs that dared attack the patch. Among his favorite dishes were boiled potatoes and cabbage, or boiled potatoes and cod fish balls. His potatoes were eaten “au naturel”, with a little salt and pepper but without butter. He had no use for either butter or cheese. Of his nine grandchildren only one was like him in that respect, the son and only child of his favorite daughter Jenny Workman, the youngest of his family.
Grandmother CatherineTrumbull had died on October 5, 1888. Before her death three of her children, George, Margaret and Jenny had married. George was living in Dallas, Texas, and Margaret in Staunton, Illinois. Anna and John were still at home.
Aunt Annie was the homemaker for Grandfather and she devoted her life to him. Because of her deafness there never could have been satisfactory communication between them but she knew what he enjoyed for food and she kept his clothes clean and mended. Those were the days of oil lamps whose wicks had to be trimmed daily, oil replenished, and the globes clean and sparkling. Ashes had to be removed from the stoves and often the soot had to be removed from the stove pipes, the stoves had to be blackened and polished, floors swept with a broom, and the furniture dusted. Aunt Annie had “bouts” with rheumatism too, but she kept going because Grandfather Robert depended on her. I’m sure he wasn’t very considerate at times but she never complained.
For a number of years, Grandfather could do his own driving if there were errands to do in town or he would ride in with some of our family. Aunt Jenny or her husband would sometimes furnish transportation. It must have been in his middle 80’s that he decided a pony would fill his need for transportation. It was probably Aunt Jennie who encouraged him in this idea and helped him find a roan Welsh pony, a four wheeled dog cart and a sturdy harness. It was only a fair weather – warm weather equipage however, but it suited Grandfather for a year or two. There the pony, Joe, began to develop some bad habits, such as clamping his teeth firmly on the bit and refusing to obey the signals transmitted to him. I don’t remember who was driving him when he dashed off the road and into the ditch, a frightening experience for the occupants of the cart. None of us who are left now, almost sixty years later, can remember whether Joe was sold before or after Grandfather’s death.
Grandfather was still living when America was drawn into the first World War in April 1917. He had followed the war with interest before that time and when the President finally declared war, Grandfather Robert stated that if he only had a good pair of legs, he would enlist. For his age, his legs were still carrying him about remarkably well, reinforced by a cane when he could remember to take it with him. The week before his death he accompanied his son and grandson on a trip to the woods, a rough ride in a farm wagon drawn by two horses, for a quarter of a mile or more. The day before he died he walked through two fields to the Key’s homestead where a sawmill was in use, quite a walk for a man in his 92nd year, and there were at least two fences to climb, both going and coming. I am not sure whether he had to cross a plowed field on his own farm or not, or whether he walked along the edge of a plowed field. As he neared his own home upon his return he came to what is called a “dead furrow” and instead of stepping into it he attempted to step across it and fell into it and was unable to extricate himself.
John, his son, was probably at work somewhere on the farm with the team and Jim could have been with his father. Aunt Annie was deaf and could not have heard calls for help even if she had been outside of the house. Mother Harriet was home and fortunately heard Grandfather calling and finally located the spot where he lay. She was able to get him on his feet and supported him to his house which was not very far away. When Grandfather had attempted to step across the dead furrow, he had exerted himself more than usual and had felt something give away inside his throat or upper chest. Jim is the only one of us three grandchildren whose home was on the farm who was at home that day and he can not remember whether Grandfather Robert died that day or the next, but he did not linger long after that fall. His death occurred on May 30, 1917.
Two days later his funeral was held in his home with friends and neighbors attending. The service was conducted by the Reverend Charles F. Irwin of the Presbyterian Church in Belle Center. Grandfather had made a profession of faith in Christ and had been received into the church only a few years before his death. Both Anna and Margaret were members of the Presbyterian Church. The young men of the Keys and Hemphill families, close neighbors and two grandsons were the pall bearers and Grandfather was laid to rest in the Northwood cemetery beside his beloved Catherine. The graves are located in the higher part of the cemetery and quite a little distance from those of his father James and mother Janet and other Trumbull relatives.
My father bought the interest in the farm of the other heirs and Aunt Annie and Aunt Margaret moved to Belle Center until a house could be built on ten acres of ground Grandfather had given Aunt Annie years earlier. At the same time he had deeded ten acres to his son John. These transactions were made in order to insure two more votes of property owners for a proposed road leading to the village of Northwood.
Willis Hemphill, a neighbor and also a carpenter, built the house for Aunt Annie, a story and a half structure with two bedrooms upstairs, a kitchen, dining room, living room with an open stairway, and a utility room off the kitchen. A screened-in porch ran across the front of the house, and the back door opened onto a very small enclosed porch. There was no heating system or water system and she depended on water from a well drilled near the back door. The house was heated by sheet-iron stoves with wood as the fuel – the fuel she had been accustomed to all her life.
Hucksters were still travelling the country roads when Aunt Annie moved into her house and she could buy her groceries and coal oil for stove and larrups from their stock of produce. If they didn’t have what she wanted, she sometimes would walk to Belle Center, going across the fields to a road leading into town, a distance of 3 ½ – 4 miles. She was in her 60’s at the time, but nothing daunted her and she didn’t complain.