My Genealogy Hound

Jeremiah Wayland, son of Joshua and Rachel Wayland, was born in Virginia, June 29, 1796, and died at home in St. Francisville, February 19, 1883. His father was a Revolutionary soldier until the close of that war, and often played the fife during the long and weary marches to battle. The recital of the engagements and incidents of the war, in which he was a participant and eye-witness, were related to be remembered by his children through life. At the age of ten years Jeremiah immigrated with his parents’ family to Shelby County, Ky., where they subsequently purchased a farm near Smithfield, and there our subject resided until manhood. He then removed to near Owensboro, teaching school several years, and marrying Nancy J. Bartlett, who was born in Elizabethtown, Ky., and brought up near Louisville. A farm was secured, and, adopting the vocation of a farmer, he continued it through life, always regarding it as the most independent occupation, and deriving great pleasure from his labor. Those who have seen the dense beech woods near Owensboro do not wonder that he should “fold his tent,” and seek a less timbered spot in which to make a livelihood. Hearing of the fertile plains of Missouri he and two brothers-in-law, Samuel Bartlett and George Haywood, disposed of their little homes in Kentucky, and, loading their wagons with the necessary articles, they, with their families and Grandmother Bartlett, bade friends adieu (promising “to write back”) and emigrated westward. It is perhaps safe to say that as it took 25 cents to send a letter in those days, and pens were only obtained from the quills of the wild goose, correspondence was not indulged in to any extent on either side. After several weeks of travel they halted at St. Louis, a mere village at that time. Here one of the party was offered forty acres of land adjoining the town for a gun, but failing to discover any money in the transaction, he refused the proposition, and moved on with his rifle. The party stopped at Palmyra on their way up the river, remaining there a year in order to look around before locating permanently. A trip to Clark County (then Lewis) was made, and a tract of land entered, bordering on the Des Moines River, now adjoining St. Francisville, in the fall of 1829. Building sites were selected on the banks of the Des Moines River, and the inevitable log cabins were built from standing timber. In lieu of lumber for a door, Mr. Wayland hung up a bear skin. All completed, it is presumable that Mr. Wayland stepped back, viewing his structure with satisfaction, and wondering if “mother” would be pleased. Returning to Palmyra for his wife and three small children, he safely domiciled them in their new home. The Indians with which they were surrounded, daily came and went, and Mrs. Wayland, not having the courage of her husband at first timidly attended to the insecurity of the bear skin. Being assured the Indians were friendly and meant no harm, and that the children were neither missing nor scalped, she was not long in overcoming her timidity. While much has been said of the pioneer fathers of the country, there is often little mention made of the pioneer mothers, whose self-denial and best efforts equal their husbands’. Besides being a “maid-of-all-work,” Mrs. Wayland had the family cloth to make at home, and also had her other family duties to attend to, and, though the children’s garments were not modeled after the modern fashion sheets, they were more comfortable, and a mother’s loving hands made them all. Mr. Wayland lived to celebrate the sixtieth anniversary of his marriage, five children, nineteen grandchildren and two great grandchildren being present on that occasion. He enjoyed almost uninterrupted health through life, thus preserving his spirits and mental abilities to a ripe old age. He frequently remarked that he did not believe there was a man in the country who enjoyed himself or friends more than he. In politics he was a Democrat, and through life was a stanch Baptist, having built a church of that faith at St. Francisville at his own expense. His Christian faith was almost unparalleled. It was his greatest pleasure to daily live religion, though he never claimed Christian perfection. He always preferred being underrated rather than the reverse, yet, in justice to him, it can be truthfully said that his life was irreproachable. Being thoroughly conscientious, his strict integrity could not be questioned. On his eightieth birthday his will was written by his own hand, in which these words occur: “I am eighty years old, but, feeling the infirmities of old age, I do make this my last will and testament. I owe no man living or dead a dollar, that I have any knowledge of, and I conscientiously believe I have paid every dollar I ever owed or contracted through life.” Among his last words were: “I made a profession of religion when a boy, and ever since I have tried to do my duty to the world and to the church, and now I feel that my mission is done. If I die I shall go straight to heaven.” Now that he has gone to his reward, and his life passes into history, no omission should occur of her who not only journeyed with him through the wilderness, but through a little more than sixty years of peaceful married life. She has been a good mother, not only caring for her own children, but also has taken great pleasure in supplying the place of a mother to orphan children. She never once turned from her door, unsupplied, the stranger who asked for bread. Her children gather around and offer to the best of mothers their greatest tribute of gratitude and affection. Life’s evening shades are closing around her, and when she passes from the valley so long called home, may she resume her journey with him who preceded her. To Mr. and Mrs. Wayland were born these children: Bartlett (deceased), Eliza (wife of W. H. Pritchett), William (deceased), George H., Mary K., Mattie T., Samuel E., Anna (wife of Dr. J. R. Murray) and Dr. J. A. Wayland (deceased).