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Selected Entries from the journal of Anna Margaret Follmer 1775-1781
see also:
https://www.familysearch.org/photos/artifacts/76368167?cid=mem_copy
https://www.familysearch.org/photos/artifacts/76368168?cid=mem_copy
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January 24, 1775
Yesterday at supper it was my turn to read the Bible but father said he wanted to read. We know it is a special day when he reads. We keep the Bible covered on a stand and it is always ready for daily devotions. After prayers he told us he had been commissioned an Ensign in the army.
July 31, 1776
My grandfather, Hans Jacob Follmer, came to America from Rosswag, Germany. Their ship, the "Friendship", departed from Rotterdam and landed in Philadelphia September 20, 1738. Grandfather often spoke of the suffering aboard ship during the two months' journey. Heat, inadequate food, and lack of space made it torture. Many died. Without the comfort of the old Bible, already 82 years old, grandfather said they could not have endured. Father still regards the Bible as his greatest treasure.
June 3, 1778
I write from inside the stockade at Fort Augusta. After we learned we had to leave we spent the busiest day I can remember. We carried our dishes, pots, kettles, and many of our implements to the cave behind the cabin. We put most of the tools there, too. Mother wrapped the Bible in a tanned hide and laid it in the cave with our few other books.
August 6, 1779
We left Fort Augusta four days ago and arrived home the same day, finding everything intact. There was hardly time to straighten up the following morning when we received an urgent message, delivered from horseback by a rider I did not recognize, to leave at once for the fort again. The rain poured down but father put mother and baby Elizabeth on the horse and led us toward Fort Augusta in the wagon. After a few miles John, Jacob and I climbed out of the wagon and walked; it did not seem so wet when we walked, although we were all soaked through. I carried Ben on my shoulders the last miles. While miserable, our flight remained uneventful until we reached Limestone Run. Then during the crossing, the Bible slipped out of the bag tied to the saddle of mother's horse and dropped into the water. By the time father dived into the churning stream and retrieved the Bible and had guided us safely across the river all of us were beginning to shiver. Mother was given a bed in Mrs. Hunter's. She has been out of her head with fever all day. Thank God that father saved the Bible.
September 20, 1776
Uncle John George and Aunt Anna Juliana live in a cabin nearby, and last Sunday Catherine and I took little Anna Marie to visit Peter Follmer (21/2 years old). It had warmed up and we went outdoors to sit under the trees. . .The two children ran around. . .and wandered behind the trees. But we could hear them and did not worry. Suddenly we realized that it was too quiet. We called. No answer. "Catherine", I screamed, "the children are lost. You go that way and I'll go this." We kept calling, but I realized that I might have passed them already. I turned around and started back, and as I did I heard crying from behind a huge tree. I rushed to it and there, sitting on a fallen limb, were the lost babes. I grabbed them up with tears of relief and joy and called to Catherine. I had realized that our neglect might have caused their deaths. Two nights before a boy fell in the water wheel at the mill and had been beheaded, and this past winter a little girl went out at night and had frozen to death. I understand now how dangerous is our lives and why mother warns us constantly of the deep forest.
January 1, 1778
The Indians are everywhere and we hear weekly of murders and scalpings. On Christmas day Andrew Fleming left his cabin on Pine Creek to hunt. His wife heard a shot, but when he did not come home she left toward evening, to look for him. She found him shot and scalped. This is just one of the stories I overheard during the few days father was home. He is gone again.
February 12, 1778
Father remains away and so are many, many men in the neighborhood. . .The Indians are all around. It has been a long hungry winter for everyone. Catherine, mother, and I have been busy spinning and sewing. We dare not go outdoors except for necessities. The maple syrup, honey, and molasses are gone. We are wearied of corn and buckwheat cakes. How we long for apples.
April 22, 1778
We nearly died in our cabin from fear of the Indians! Five nights ago, just after dark, we heard a call like that of our Guinea hens, which mother thought was an Indian signal since they use bird calls to each other in preparing for attacks. We fastened the doors and put the boards over the window father had made. We kept the fire going low to save fuel and sat shivering in fear in our beds, waiting for war whoops to announce an attack. The silence continued. Finally the four young children and baby Ben fell asleep. Mother had a hot kettle of water we were supposed to throw on the Indians if they broke open the door, but we really could do nothing to save ourselves. Mother reminded me that the first thing was to throw or poke hot burning sticks in their eyes to blind them. A brave girl had saved herself and family when the Indians ran out blinded. Mother consoled me that Indians seldom attack at night. We dosed off at last. In the cold morning we awakened, still afraid when we heard many times again the sound of calls. Mother cooked cornmeal and we had molasses in it, but breakfast used up most of our water. The next three days are impossible to put down on paper. We grew thirstier and hungrier, with only cornmeal and salt pork to eat and a little water. At the end of four days the children lay weak and whimpering, and I thought we might soon die. When we were all asleep this morning, brave Jacob, just ten years old. . . opened the door and crawled to the spring for water. Overhead in the trees were our
Guinea hens which heard him and called in the sound that had kept us in our cabin!
May 31, 1778
This morning we received the news that Colonel Hunter at Fort Augusta has ordered all of us in Muncie valley assemble at the closest fort. We must leave tomorrow or the next day.
June 5, 1778
For the journal I went out and sought out Colonel Hunter at the fort. . .I asked him about the fort and how well we could withstand an Indian attack. He said 1500 bushels of wheat, 250 barrels of gunpowder, and 500 pounds of lead were in the fort. But there were only seventy-three men to protect the fort. The Indians menace the valley without threatening the fort and Colonel Hunter doubts they will actually mount an assault on the fort. Afterward I spoke with another officer who mentioned there are several two and four pound cannon. He told me that the Indians would not attack because of these guns. I pray he is correct.
June 12, 1778
I heard late yesterday of the sad killing of Mrs. Pentz and her four children. The Indians captured the entire Webster family, killing two and taking the rest away. . . It seems like the Indians intend to stay and menace the valley forever.
July 4, 1778
Colonel Hunter read the declaration of independence to us to celebrate the day. He made a brief speech that encouraged us, saying that the Indians have moved to the east and that we could leave for our homes at any time.
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