Selections from Eliza Leslie

The Settlers

65 The Settlers a dialogue Ellen–Maria maria. Now, Ellen, let us move the sofa closer to the hearth, and let us put our feet on the fender, and talk by fire-light, till we are called into the back-parlour to tea;—but, first, I will let down the window-curtains. ellen. How comfortable and pleasant your house always seems! It is so large and so handsome, and has so many conveniences! maria. You could not have said so, had you visited us ten years since. Our house was then a log-cabin. ellen. A log-cabin? maria. Yes, indeed. My father was the first settler in this place, which was then a wilderness, and is now a thriving village. ellen. And did you ever live in a log-cabin? Why, your father is now in Congress, and is considered one of the most wealthy men in the country; and your brothers are at college, and you have been at boarding-school. maria. True: our circumstances are now very prosperous, and we have every thing that we desire; but you can have no idea of all the privations we endured when we first emigrated from Pennsylvania. My grandfather was a wealthy farmer, but he had nine children, and at his death, when 66 The Settlers his property was equally divided, the portion that fell to each child was not very great. My father and my uncle Robert determined to improve their condition, by selling the small farms allotted to them and buying a large tract in one of the new states, where land was cheap, with the intention of removing thither and settling on it. ellen. I wonder your mother consented to go to a place, which, at that time, was certainly the backwoods. maria. Her love for my father, and her devotion to his interest, would have induced her to accompany him even beyond the rocky mountains, had he judged it expedient to remove thither; and she had excellent health and spirits, and a disposition to make the best of every thing. She was certainly very sorry to part from her friends, and to leave the neighbourhood in which she had lived from her infancy ; but, then, the objects of her warmest affection, her husband and her four children, were still with her. ellen. Have you any recollection of the journey? maria. I remember it perfectly—I have a very good memory , and I often hear my parents and my uncle talk of our little adventures on the road, and the manner in which we lived for some time after our emigration. ellen. I suppose you travelled in the stages and steamboats , as our family did when we came hither, a few weeks since? maria. No: on the route we took, there were then neither stages nor steam-boats. ellen.Then you came in your own carriage? maria. Our own carriage was our own waggon. ellen. How dreadful it must have been to travel several hundred miles in a waggon! maria. On the contrary, we enjoyed the journey. My two brothers were fine healthy boys, my sister Fanny was one 67 The Settlers of the happiest little things in the world, my father and mother are both naturally cheerful, and, I believe, we were all disposed to think as lightly as possible of the inconveniences which we knew to be unavoidable. We were accompanied by my uncle Robert, who had bought some land adjoining to my father’s new tract, and who had a waggon of his own. We all loved our uncle very much, as he was the sort of person that children are always fond of—my brothers, in particular, were his warm friends and favourites. ellen. But how could you be comfortable in the waggon? maria. We thought ourselves very comfortable—the canvass cover sheltered us from the sun; the bottom of the waggon was covered thickly with straw; we sat or reclined upon the beds we were bringing with us; and for tables we used the tops of chests and boxes. Though the waggons were heavily laden, we had a sufficient number of horses to draw them without difficulty.The boys generally rode in my uncle’s waggon, and my mother, my sister, and myself, sat in my father’s, with Phillis, the faithful black woman whom we brought with us from Pennsylvania, and who is now our cook. ellen. And who...