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Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: October 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: October 1814

©by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

The fictional journal of a young woman, Adeline Price, during the War of 1812. Adeline is the oldest daughter of the family. Her father inherited property from an older brother in what is now Edwardsburg township and he and his son, William, were recruited in the local militia during the war. Adeline married a British soldier, Sgt. Charles Houghton, who died just after the Battle at Crysler’s Farm, leaving her a widow with twin infant sons. Adeline has a younger sister, Eveline, and a younger brother, Henry.

Sunday, Oct.2,1814

Dear Janetta,

Yesterday was a glorious golden and scarlet fall day. Sadly, it was also the day we laid Arthur’s wife, Kathleen, to rest.

I have been so absorbed with my own problems I have never even remarked on the birth on July 12, of their son, Adam Patrick Randall. It was a name that Kathleen chose and Arthur agreed to. I was quite amazed at the time that meek little Kathleen had shown enough spunk to insist upon it. She had a difficult time of the birth and despite Mrs. Randall’s closest attention and even the last minute insistence of her father that the fort physician see to her, Kathleen never seemed to recover her full strength. She died suddenly after a short bout of influenza. I think honestly, she was just worn out and the birth of a baby was the final stitch in her shroud.

It was a very sad affair. Arthur was grim and seems to have no affection at all for his tiny son. Mrs. Randall hired a woman from a farm near Spencer’s mill who had just lost a baby girl, as a wet nurse for Adam and plans to bring the boy up herself as soon as he is weaned. Mr. O’Meara, who is terribly overweight and lame, blubbered through the whole graveside service, not, I suspect, because he was grieving for his daughter, but because he has been abandoned to his own devices without her. Arthur left to join his division and the rest of us, huddled together over the grave to say our personal goodbyes. Though I didn’t know her well, I felt sorry for her and for her abandoned baby.

Robert is furious with his brother. He is such a responsible person that I am sure his chagrin is mixed with sadness for little Adam. He is still recovering from his Lundy Lane wound. He looked pale and I saw him wincing more than once as we paid our respects. My heart aches for Mr. and Mrs. Randall. I know that they are worried about their youngest son and very upset that he is not being the father he ought to be. Perhaps Arthur is so bereaved he can’t bear to be around the baby. I have heard of such things, but I think it is reprehensible. I cannot imagine my Charles being so heartless.

Wishing for peace,

Adeline

Sunday, Oct. 23, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Almost all the harvest is in and Evvy, Mother and I have been turning out the house to get ready for winter. Most of the trees have shed their leaves and the air is much colder. My boys are four months old now and a lot more busy. I can’t leave them anywhere for long as they get very restless and begin to fuss. Mother has fixed me a sort of sling to put one child on my chest and the other on my back so that I can go walking with them. Sometimes, Evvy takes one and we go together, but we daren’t stray far from the house for fear of Bourke.

Fighting has gone on all this autumn and there have been heavy casualties on both sides. Mr. Hector Hamish Hamilton has been visiting Evvy on a number of occasions. He seems to be hoping that propinquity will aid his suit. Evvy is more amused than annoyed, but I don’t think that providence is on his side.

Hector is a good source of information about the events of the ongoing war. He told us about the attack that General Prevost had planned against the naval base in Plattsburgh. General Prevost had to wait until the British naval squadron could engage the American squadron, so that he and the troops could attack the town. The squadron arrived on September 11 and fought fiercely against the Americans, but had finally to surrender, both sides losing 250 men. General Prevost decided to retreat, as pressing his attack without naval assistance was impossible. The soldiers who returned from the battle reported that the noise of the naval canon fire was so thunderous they could feel reverberating in their own breasts and the ground seemed to shake underfoot.

There was also a fierce battle over Ft. Erie which Lt. General Drummond had surrounded but his army was quickly running out of supplies. The Americans in the fort suddenly attacked our soldiers on September 17, but were forced back with help of the native warriors. Now Lt. General Drummond has a strong position to defend on the Chippewa River.

Hector was most excited about the commissioning of the 100 gun ship St. Lawrence. He said it is the largest ship to sail on the Great Lakes and that it put the American navy in its place in a short time. He told us all this with much enthusiasm and almost knocked over a candle stick with his sweeping hand gesture when describing how it had turned the tide and regained British supremacy on Lake Ontario.

Hector has a very fine red handlebar mustache which causes Henry much hilarity, though thank goodness, he manages to keep it to himself until Hector departs. It is rather amazing the workout it gets when Hector is speaking and somehow always ends up in his teacup, which embarrasses him terribly. Still, it is kind of him to visit and keep us informed as Father and William have been too busy to attend to much more than our farm. Hopefully, the war will be over soon.

Affectionately,

Adeline

Without God – a hymn

Without God

8 7 8 7

Without rain this world’s a desert;

Without sun this world is cold;

Without God this world is barren

And our hearts will turn to stone.

Without hope this world’s desperate;

Without Love this world is cold;

Without God this world is chaos

And our souls will have no home.

Turn your eyes towards the Saviour;

Turn your ears to hear God’s Word;

Use your hands to do His service

And God’s love will overflow.

For in God we find our purpose;

For in Him we find our joy;

And in God our hearts will open

For the truth to set us free.

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal : September 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal : September 1814

A fictional account of a young woman’s experiences in Upper Canada during the war of 1812.

Saturday, Sept. 4, 1814

Thistledown Farm

Dear Janetta,

Our little cold cellar is so full of vegetables now, I doubt I could hide even one child in there. It has been an extraordinary year for root vegetables and mother is exhausted from making jams and pickled vegetables. Evvy and I are tired of picking them. Father and William have been busy bringing in the grain harvest and our corn crib is well filled.

There has been no sign of Bourke thank goodness, but Father has set Henry on guard whenever Mother and Evvy have to help in the fields. White Wolf followed Bourke’s tracks to the place where Bourke and the O’Meara’s crossed over to Ogdensburg so he has eluded capture once again by crossing the river.

With exasperation,

Adeline

Sept. 18, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Father and I were summoned to Fort Wellington yesterday and so I went with my babes bundled up. I didn’t know what to expect as we were led to believe that the message engraved on the cabin door had exonerated me from all suspicion in the death of Charles. The fort is still under construction so there was the constant sounds of sawing and hammering while we were there. There is also great preparation for winter going on and many of the men who live outside the stockade have been making their shacks more winter-proof as they know now how cold a Canadian winter can be. The woodpile is stacked high within the stockade and army wives are keeping busy knitting warm socks, hats and mitts for the men as I have for my boys.

While at the fort, I received a most alarming shock. At first I heard his voice and turned my head to see a slightly shorter version of my dear Charles. He was standing by the window of the commander’s office talking to some of the soldiers outside and his voice was eerily like his brother’s. They were discussing a recent report of the activities of Major-General Ross and Rear-Admiral Cockburn who had taken a small force and attacked a much larger American force which they defeated. Evidently, Charles‘ older brother, whom I deduced this almost double was, had been in the force that had taken Washington and burned several buildings there, one of which was the presidential residence.

“It was quite astonishing, really,” I heard him say, “the table was all set for a diplomatic banquet and so we felt quite touched that Mrs. Dolly Madison had prepared such a pleasant feast for our enjoyment.”

The men outside guffawed quite heartily at the thought of the invading army sitting down to dinner before burning the place.

“Sadly, we were unable to thank our hostess,” he added, “ as she had fled the premises.”

I confess at that moment I greatly sympathized with Mrs. Madison. I too had lost my home and all my possessions to a fire started by my enemy.

There was more genial laughter and at that point the commanding officer entered the room.

Father had pulled up a chair for me and I sat there with Charlie in my arms. Father was holding Andrew and rocking a bit on his feet.

The Lt. Colonel cleared his throat and the Captain straightened his uniform and saluted. At that point he suddenly seemed to notice me. I must admit, I was staring at him. He looked so much like his brother, although his hair was brown and his mustache was thicker.

The fort’s commander addressed us.

“Widow Houghton and Lt. Price, thank you for coming today. I wanted to inform you of the state of affairs concerning the death of Sgt. Houghton.” He turned to Captain Houghton and made the polite introductions. Captain Houghton made a curt bow.

“I have here a letter for your father, Captain, in which I have included a fair copy of Constable Breton’s report in which he completely exonerates Mrs. Houghton of any part in her husband’s murder. Constable Breton is presently following other lines of inquiry.”

“Lt. General Pearson, I appreciate your attention to this matter,” declared Captain Houghton, “ but having read the report myself,

I rather doubt that my father will be satisfied with the constable’s conclusions. Some scratchings on a door and a home that has conveniently burned to the ground is hardly proof of innocence. I would think it is, rather, a feeble attempt concocted to avert suspicion from the true culprit.”

I began to open my mouth when my father leapt to my defence.

“Excuse me Captain,” he said thrusting Andrew into my arms and stepping forward to face Captain Houghton, “are you implying that somehow we set fire to my daughter’s home to convince the constable of her innocence?”

“I am simply stating, sir, that I did not find the report credible. I do not believe every effort has been made to apprehend Charles’ murderer and I do not believe my father will be any more persuaded than I.”

“ My daughter, Captain Houghton, has been deprived of a husband and a father for her children. She has been deprived of her home and of any income. She has made no demands of Charles’ family, other than the respect due her position as his widow. Her mother and I are now her sole support. If you dare to think that we have had any part in this tragic situation you lack the intelligence that a gentleman of your education and background should have.”

The captain began to protest and my father interrupted him.

“Thank you for your report, Lt. General Pearson. My daughter and I will be leaving now and we wish no further communication from the Houghton family of any sort. Good-day.”

And so we left Ft. Wellington, without the intended visit to see Col. Jessup. Father was too angry to speak as he drove our cart home but he squeezed my hand tightly as we drove back through the dusk. My heart was pounding and my throat hurt from holding back the tears.

Sadly,

Adeline

An Ode to a Lawn

Lawn Au Naturel

Dandelion salad, dandelion wine,

Don’t you wish your lawn was mine?

Dandelion fuzz balls standing tall,

How very sad that you have none at all.

Dandelion wishes, dandelion schemes,

Buttercup kisses, dandelion dreams.

Please, keep your roses, I’m beguiled

By wild flower bouquets picked by a child.

Spraying and digging may seem wise but

Dandelions are just sunshine in disguise.

Two More Thanksgiving Cards

Thanksgiving Cards

Autumn leaf card — Message Inside is: Give Thanks

Thanksgiving pumpkin card — Message inside: Happy Thanksgiving!

Here are some cards I made for Thanksgiving. I used patterned and plain cardstock as well as art foam sheets.

A Poem for Harvest

Garden Gems

My table is laden with finest treasure

That has ever given my palate pleasure:

Ruby tomatoes and emerald cukes bright

Fresh- picked from vines, epicurean delight!

There are topaz carrots and peridot peas,

Among plump golden pumpkins sure to please.

The pearly white onions and amethyst beets

With great garnet radishes make dreams complete.

What more wondrous wealth could ever be found

Than delicious jewels mined from fertile ground?

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: August 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: August 1814

A fictional account of the War of 1812 as told through the journals of a young woman, Adeline Price.

Sunday, August 7, 1814

Dear Janetta,

We have had no news of the war beyond an awful battle in a place called Lundy’s Lane, not far from the huge waterfall on the Niagara River. Hundreds of men lost their lives there when forces with the British army commander, Lieutenant-General Gordon Drummond, were attacked at the supper hour. William, who brought us this news from Fort Wellington, said that in the dark it must have been very difficult to tell one’s friends from foes. I asked William if there was any word about Robert or White Wolf, but there was not. All we can do is pray that they will return safely.

As for Bourke, thankfully no one has seen him or anyone of his description on this side of the St. Lawrence. Even so, Father and Henry keep the muskets beside them.

I had so hoped to have my sons back in our own home by now, but Blueberry Creek Farm still lies in ashes and I suppose we won’t see it until next summer. Oh how, I wish this ugly war was done and all of us living peaceful lives as we were before.

Regretfully,

Adeline

Sunday,August 14, 1814

Dear Janetta,

We took the babes to Johnstown in the wagon yesterday to have them Christened by the Reverend Bethune. I dressed them in their best baby robes and Mother gave me two of her shawls to wrap them in. They slept during the drive there and woke up wailing, so I had to nurse them before we went to the reverend’s place of residence.

Elizabeth and William are the boy’s Godparents. The boys were Christened Andrew James and Charles William. Andy and Charlie were very quiet during the Christening and I felt so proud of my little sons.

Afterwards we drove back home and had a late supper of garden vegetables and one of the old hens that Evvy had stewed with onions. I was very relieved that nothing untoward had happened because it is the first time we had ventured away from the farm with my babes. I did notice that Father had taken his musket and so had William. Thankfully, they were not necessary.

Happily,

Adeline

Tuesday, August 16, 1814

Dear Janetta,

I had a terrible shock in the earliest hours before dawn. We were awakened by a musket shot which seemed to be right outside our bedchamber. Father bolted down the stairs with his musket in hand and Henry hot on his heels, but much to our relief it was Arthur Randall, who, unknown to us, was keeping an eye on the farm for his brother, Robert.

Arthur apologized for frightening us, but he had spied a fox creeping into the hen house and had speedily dispatched the thief. Father thanked him and Mother made him a warm breakfast before he set out for his own home at the O”Meara’s.

Father says that the fox tail will make a handsome collar for mother’s winter coat and the rest of the pelt might make smart warm booties for the twins. It was kind of Arthur to keep watch but, perhaps it is unnecessary as no doubt Bourke has had enough revenge. I voiced that opinion,but Father said he was keeping his musket by his side, nonetheless and Mother nodded her head.

“Don’t forget for a moment, Addie, we are still at war.” Henry piped up and Evvy squeezed my hand.

My heart sank when I considered the dangerous world into which I had brought my sons. I wonder if things are as worrisome in dear old England.

Keeping you in prayer,

Adeline

Tuesday, August 30, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Today should have been a beautiful summer’s day. The weather was perfect, warm with a gentle breeze ruffling the grass and trees. The sky was pale blue with just a skiff of white cloud and as the rest of the family was out harvesting the furthest oat field, I was left at the house to look after the twins. I dressed them in their tiny lawn night shirts, nursed them and tucked them into their cradles under the shady maple near the well. Pirate wanted to go with Henry, Father, William, Mother and Evvy, but Father told him to stay with me and so he went to lay down and sulk between the two cradles.

Pirate has become an excellent watch dog now that he is almost fully grown. He dotes on the twins and is very proprietory. I therefore felt that it was an excellent opportunity to do some harvesting of the bounty of our garden. I took my reed basket and the musket Father had left for me and settled myself down between the rows of carrots and beans.

Now the garden has already produced many baskets of turnips, potatoes and beets which we have stored in the root cellar Father and William built on the garden side of our stone house. They dug it deep enough so that Father can stand upright in it. They lined it with stones and set down a flagstone floor and fashioned a wooden plank door for it to keep out the snow. Then Henry and Father made some shelves on two walls and a place for wooden barrels set on cedar fence rails to keep them off the floor. Mother put up crocks of wonderful currant and wild berry jams. The black berry, raspberry and wildstrawberries have been abundant this year. Evvy made jam herself from blueberries she harvested at my farm, which isn’t much now without a cabin.

I never thought it would ever be used for anything but produce. As I was working away filling my basket, the sun got warmer and I took off my straw bonnet to wipe my brow. I noticed that Pirate was standing up, the hair on the back of his neck straight up and he was growling. My skin began to prickle, though I was unable to see anything to disturb him.

I listened carefully and thought I heard far-off hoof beats coming in our direction. It might be White Wolf and Robert Randall returning from the battlefront but they wouldn’t approach without hailing us. I knew it couldn’t be anyone else as the harvesting was to go on all day and it was barely noon. Mother had prepared a lunch to take with them.

As well, I knew that Pirate would not growl at Arthur or any of the Randalls.

I had to protect the children. I ran over and snatched them out of their cradles and dashed to the house but midway there, I changed my mind. The house would be the first place anyone would look. I went instead to the root cellar, lifted up the door and scooted down the steps after sending Pirate to get Henry. I hoped he would understand and he seemed to as he ran off into the woods. I closed the door again and peered out a small knothole that father intended to fill.

It wasn’t long before I could hear a horse snorting and the swishing sound of someone dragging something through the long grass around the house. I peered out the knothole once more hoping to see a familiar figure. The figure I finally saw was familiar but not in a good way. The man’s back was turned but I could tell that the green military jacket he wore had no longer the appearance of care. It was missing trim and had a bedraggled hem needing patches. The hair was long and tied with a dirty ribband in a style long out of fashion. The beard was unkempt and his buckskin breeches were in sore need of cleaning. When he finally looked in my direction, my breath caught in my throat. It was Bourke, the same Bourke who had kidnapped me and menaced my life. It was the man who murdered my husband.

“I knows yer here, Adeline. I knows yer hide’n but yer ain’t goin ter get away this time. I got yer man and I will get yer.”

At that very moment Charlie began to stir and complain. Immediately, Bourke looked in our direction and it seemed my heart stopped beating. How would I protect my children? It was at that moment that I realized with horror that the musket was in the garden with my basket of vegetables.

“Hide’n in the root cellar I see! Clever gal! Very clever, but not enought to fool Jacob Bourke. Oh no…”

I needed a weapon, anything. While he was talking I went back down the steps and kicked a basket of onions over with my foot. Onions went rolling all over the root cellar floor. I put the twins wrapped in thin blankets into the righted basket and pushed it behind one of the barrels. Then I felt along the floor for a cedar stave to use to trip Bourke down the stairs or beat him.

The door above me began to open and I attempted to shrink further back into the shadows. Suddenly, I could hear Pirate barking from afar and voices shouting. The door slammed shut.

“Damn all, someone’s comin’” hissed Bourke, “Yer saved this time, but I’ll be back. Yer goin’ to pay, Oh yes.”

I could hear Bourke limping away and then the sound of hoofbeats as he fled. Pirate was barking loudly now and growling with a fierceness he’d never had before. I thought Bourke would be far away now, but I heard musket shots and decided to stay where I was until I knew who was in the yard. There were more shouts and I recognized a familiar voice.

“Adeline, are you safe? Addie, O God, why don’t you answer? If Bourke has touched one hair of your head or hurt the babies I will make him pay.”

I snatched up the basket with my two wailing babes and stumbled out of the root cellar. Robert darted forward and pulled Andrew wriggling and crying, out of the basket. He looked him all over, hugged him and handed him to me saying,”there there, little

fellow, here’s Mama.” Then he lifted Charlie out and I followed him into the house. White Wolf, inscrutable as ever, reloaded his musket, mounted his horse and rode away following the tracks left by Bourke’s mare. Not long after, Father, William and Henry came on the run after hearing musket shots and Pirate’s barking.

“Father, Robert and White Wolf saved our lives,” I gasped and I recounted to him as best I could, the morning’s narrow escape.

“I am very grateful to Robert and White Wolf for rescuing you, Daughter, but I think it was very brave of you to hide in the root cellar. I shall contrive a way to lock the door from the inside should you ever need protection there again.”

Mother and Evvy were horrified, when they returned on the run, to learn about my ordeal, but relieved to know that we were safe and well.

It wasn’t until he was assured that we were out of danger that Robert returned home to his parents. I knew how grateful they would be to have their son home whole and hale. At the same time, I was very grateful to God that Robert and White Wolf had chosen to return at that time.

I am so frightened of this horrible person that I cannot sleep, but the candle is guttering. I need to sleep for the babes arise in the “wee hours” as Mrs. Randall would say.

Goodnight dear friend,

Adeline

Wednesday, August 31, 1814

Dear Janetta,

In all the drama of yesterday, I never enquired about the war in the Niagara River area where Robert and White Wolf had been. Father today informed us that Robert was recovering from a bayonet wound that White Wolf had been tending since the Battle of Lundy Lane. I am glad our good friend is now home to recuperate.

Gratefully, Adeline

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: June & July 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: June 1814

2012 by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

A fictional account of a young woman’s experiences during the war. Adeline is the daughter of James and Martha Price. James inherited the property from his older deceased brother, Andrew, who was an English soldier during the American revolution. Adeline was kidnapped by American spies and rescued during the attack on Ogdensburg. She married a British soldier, Sgt. Charles Houghton who was murdered by persons unknown a few months later. Adeline has always addressed her journal to her best friend back in England, Janetta.

The following excerpt is from Eveline Price’s journal.

Thistledown Farm

June 17, 1814

Dear Diary,

We thought we were going to lose Adeline in May after the shock she had finding her home destroyed by fire. Providentially, Mrs. Randall had come to visit Mother with the men who came to take Adeline to her property. Mrs. Randall got her immediately into bed and calmed down with some willow tea. She ordered Adeline to stay in bed for the next few days. Addie looked very frail, but we kept watch and fed her nutritious food. Gradually, she recovered her strength.

Today all our care was rewarded with the birth of Adeline’s twin boys. You can imagine our surprise! The two little fellows are very strong and although Adeline was in labour for many hours, they have arrived in the world healthy and glowing. Adeline named the first one Charles William and the second boy, Andrew James. She is so tired, but so very happy. Mother and Father are completely besotted with their two grandsons and I am once again, a very proud aunt. Henry is already working on another cradle, as we have only one on hand.

Happily, Evvy

Sunday, July 10, 1814

Thistledown Farm

Dear Janetta,

My two little angels are sound asleep beside me. If they begin to stir I push the rockers on their cradles with my foot and they get lulled back to sleep. I have them in their nappies as it is very hot today, but I have covered their cradles with a piece of very closely woven netting Mother had to keep the pesky mosquitos out. I am seated out under a shady maple and it is a blessed relief from the garden where I spent a good deal of time this morning picking beans and weeding. Andrew and Charlie seem to sleep much better under the tree than they do inside.

Elizabeth and William are here today as well. Elizabeth is taking Vickie’s nap time to mend some clothing. Vickie is eight months old and a veritable little rascal when awake. She is so much like our dear departed Victoria it is almost eerie. She has thick brown curls and merry blue eyes as well as amazing dimples. She has her father’s total adoration and Elizabeth sighs with exasperation at what William allows Vickie to do.

It is such a sorrow to me that my Charles is not here to see his beautiful sons. I know that he would have been a wonderful father, not at all like his own. Perhaps I am being uncharitable, judging a man from the words of one letter. If I ever meet him, which I sincerely doubt, I shall try to be more forgiving. He was grieving.

Contritely, Adeline

Dear Janetta,

My hands are shaking so badly, I can hardly hold the pen. White Wolf and Robert Randall stopped by today on their way to join the regiment heading to the Niagara area of Upper Canada. The war has been heating up again and although our brave navy has control in the Great Lakes once more, Jacob Brown, the American general, has crossed the Niagara River.

Robert and White Wolf have cautioned me to be on my guard, but they believe that they know who is guilty of Charles’ murder and the burning of our home. They had to tell me of their suspicions so that I could verify whether I was acquainted with the monster.

White Wolf had found some tracks in the forest around our land . He says that it appeared the person had been dragging one foot. This Robert passed on to some sympathetic Americans who do trade with both sides in this war. It was reported back through channels that a former army scout named Bourke had been drinking heavily and boasting about killing an English soldier at his very doorstep. When the man got up to leave the tavern he was dragging his left leg.

As Robert and White Wolf told me this my heart almost completely stopped. I suppose I must have looked very pale as Robert immediately put an arm around me and sat me own on the bench under the maple. I hadn’t realized I had stood up while they were speaking.

“Adeline,do you recognize that name?” asked Robert. “ Do you know anything about

this person?”

“Bourke, yes of course, Robert! Bourke was the man who kidnapped me and he was the one who held me at gunpoint during the battle in Ogdensburg.” I jumped up again and began crying.

“Bourke was the evil yellow coward that killed Charles? Why? Oh give me a gun and a horse and I will kill that blackguard as I should have the time I shot him.”

At this point my poor lambs began crying, wailing no doubt in fright hearing their mother so distraught. Robert immediately picked up Charlie and began soothing him and Evvy ran from the house to comfort Andrew. I was beside myself I am ashamed to say, but oh how I wanted to scream my fury!

It was Father who rushed out of the barn and finally calmed me down.

“Adeline, come with me right now,” he commanded and I obeyed. He walked with me to the other side of the garden, dried my tears and spoke to me sternly.

“Adeline, I know you have had a terrible shock,but frightening your babies and putting yourself into this hysterical state is not going to accomplish anything. Now, take a few moments to compose yourself and then you will be able to tell White Wolf and Robert what they need to know.”

I did what Father told me to do. I composed myself and walked back to my sobbing children with as much dignity as possible. By the time I returned Robert was putting Charlie in his cradle and Evvy passed a slightly hiccuping Andrew to me to cuddle. Then I described the hateful Bourke to White Wolf , Robert and my father as well as I could.

Robert thought that Bourke would be careful not to return for awhile, but he urged Father to keep a close guard on me and the rest of the family. Finally, Robert spoke straight to me,

“Adeline, please take no chances. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but with Brown causing trouble, we’ve just got to pitch in and help. “

I put my hand on his sleeve and said with sincere anguish, “Please come back safely. I couldn’t bear it if you or White Wolf were ….” My eyes filled with tears again, but I did not shed them.

“Adeline, don’t you fret. We will come back. We will capture Bourke. I will never let that man harm you or your little ones!”

So they rode away and I retreated to the house to feed my babies and shed my dammed up tears. Mother and Evvy changed the boys and sang them to sleep while I sat down to write this. Writing seems to help, but suddenly I am overwhelmed by the knowledge I may have been the cause of my own love’s murder.

Oh, Janetta!

Adeline

More Poetry

Love Notes

With us oh so short a time,

The songbirds of the spring;

They build their nests among the leaves,

And then begin to sing.

The air is filled with sweet excess

Of trebled, warbled trills.

They sing of longing, loneliness,

Love songs from every bill.

They meet, they mate and raise their young

Until the air is chilled,

Then they gather, gossip and fly away

So other ears might thus be filled

With their exquisite songs of praise.

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