Twelfth Generation

115. Elizabeth A. "Libbey" VAN DER VOORT was born on 18 August 1835 in Blenheim Township, Schoharie County, NY.³⁷ She lived in their red house on the 100-acre family farm on Spring Hill in Bradford County, PA in 1840.³⁷ She appeared in the census in 1850 in Bradford County, PA.⁴⁰ Elizabeth died on 15 February 1883 at the age of 47.^8,41 (She may have died on 15 Feb 1923.)

Elizabeth A. "Libbey" VAN DER VOORT and Wesley SHOVE were married.³⁷

The following is a letter, followed by "My Girlhood on a Farm", written June 12, 1914 by Elizabeth Vandervoort Shove, Moscow, Idaho to her brother, Freegift Vandervoort, in Carrizo Springs, Texas. Elizabeth was born 18 August 1835. The original letter was found by Jack Williams in an old trunk in the attic of his parent's ranch. I am typing this from a copy he made and sent to me in 1997. Dawn Williams Gore, Plano, TX, July 1999.

"Moscow, Idaho June 12, 1914

My dear brother:
I wrote Cornelius [another brother] a birthday letter. I told him about the happenings on that eventful morning when he made his appearance into this world of trouble. For I was there not as one of the party,...but rather as an innocent spy behind the scene for I slept with you, in the bedroom between the kitchen and mother's room. I cannot tell so much about your advent - but I remember well that bright summer day when Mary and I came home from school and found you there, and Aunt McDow [?] said she would leave you with us if we would take good care of you. Of course we made good promises, for we wanted to keep the baby.

So I am sending you (what shall I call it) Chronicles of the going-ons at the old farm in the long-ago? I don't know what you will call it, or what you will think of it. Vina belongs to the Woman's Historic Club here in Moscow. She wanted me to write it for her, and she read it at there [sic] last meetings. It had to be brief and imperfect. She did not want a book.

We are all usually well, but Wesley and I are surely on the down grade. My health improved after we came here, but my eyes and hearing are both failing and I have lost out in every way during the past year. And I will tell you now what we have not told you before. Wesley did not want us to tell you, but he will not see this letter. Wesley had a stroke of paralysis last Dec. Of course it was a slight stroke for he did not loose (sic] the use of his limbs or his speech, but he was [can't figure out this word] all over, his body, his hearing and mind.

He isn't over it yet - especially his mind. He cannot remember and think as he did before. He is quite feeble and is failing. I think I am holding up better than he is. We have been making much of your slight promise to visit us next year. We have been wondering whether Sally could leave her mother and whether we would hold out until then. We do want to see you again very much and will still hope that we can.

The High School Commencement, as they call it, is on hand and Mildred is in it. Beth is not - and I am glad of it, for I am sure there is more nonsense then good in it. Especially is this true of the University. It seems that dancing and Athletics if the most they think of. It certainly is the most we hear of. If I was a young person and wanted a thorough education, I would fit me up a little study room where I could live comfortably all by myself and take a correspondence course from some good institution, and keep entirely clear of these infidel colleges and universities. For none but persons possessed of unusual moral fiber can stand against the influences that prevail in some of these institutions.

This one right here, for instance. The worst of it is, it is infecting the High School. I cannot help thinking that when the intellect is educated at the expense of heart and soul we are paying too dear for the whistle. But I know there is no need of it.

Now I will close by wishing you a pleasant and happy birthday and also many happy returns of the same. With much love to yourself and Sally and to your numerous family of children and grand children. I subscribe myself your loving sister. Libbe(y) [?]"

"My Girlhood on a Farm

I was born in 1835 on a farm and in the very same house in which my father first saw the light - in Schoharie Co. N.Y. not far from the historic Catskill Mountains. When I was 5 years old we moved to the red house on Spring Hill Bradford Co. Pa. where I grew to womanhood. The farm comprised 100 acres, with a mortgage on it.

Our family consisted of 4 young children which in due time increased to 7. An invalid Aunt always lived with us. I mention this that you may see the necessity of industry and economy. Father raised wheat, rye, oats, corn, buckwheat, beans, potatoes, flax and all kinds of vegetable besides all kinds of fruit. In fact, everything we could eat. We also kept 6 or 7 cows, sheep, pigs, and chickens.

As we children grew, there was work for every kid of us. We all went to school in the winter. And I went in the summer until I was 10. Then I had to stay at home to help mother. Mother was a weaver and had a loom. At the age of 12 I could spin and was learning to weave. The wool from the sheep was carded at the machine into rolls, and we spun it, and wove it into cloth, or made it into stocking yarn to knit into socks. These socks were sold at the store to buy our best clothes. Mother colored indigo blue. From the woods we got yellow oak bark for yellow. We would slip some of the blue yarn in the yellow- dye and a beautiful green would result. Cochinal [?] and mader made the reds, and maple bark and copper as the blacks.

With these colors we made very nice dress goods, finer, smother [sic] and better than much of the stuff in stores that is thought so much of today. We also made men swear, also blankets for the beds. The flax was pulled up by the roots, the seed beaten off. Then it spread on the grass to rot. The woody part. Then it was pressed through a machine that broke the woody part all up fine. Then it was comed [sic] through a very coarse [?] hitched to get the shives out. A hitch was made of a mess of very sharp spikes set very firmly in a board or plank. The flax was now comed [sic] through two or three more hitches, each finer than the last. When finished the flax was as fine and soft as strands of fine silk. It was ready then for the little wheal [wheel] to be spun into warp for cloth or for thread to sew out clothes.
We had no sewing machines then, and used home-made thread for much of our sewing. The different grades of tow that was combed out of the flax we carded and spun on the big wheal [wheel] and made the coarse and finer grades of cloth. Mother always made a piece of 1/2 yd. wide kersey for grain sacks to sell. The coarsest tow was woven into that. Then she made a piece of plain [or "plaid"?] which she generally traded at the store for other goods. The finest was made into table linens and towels.

Mother could weave all sorts of pretty patterns. She had her notes as she called them to go by. We wove birds eye, huck-a-buck and other weaves. I was a grown up girl before we had a boughten table cloth in the house, and we did not need any for we had a plenty of our own made that was better than we could buy.

Our parents were Methodists of the old school type. Every member of the family was assembled, the bible read, and prayer offered every day in the year. We older children walked 2-1/2 miles to S. S. at 9 o'clock. Our parents came to preaching and we rode home. In the afternoon we had S. S. in our school house. The hours between were spent with our S. S. books or other good reading with which our home was always supplied. Our father would not tolerate trashy stuff about the house. Visiting and entertaining on Sunday was never thought of.

Only 2 meals were served and the cooking for them was mostly done on Saturday. The thoughts of those quiet restful Sundays have always been a pleasant memory to me. When I was 16 the neighbors asked father to let me teach our school. He agreed if they would make their children mind me. From that time I was in the school (sic) as student or teacher the most of the time for 11 years. My 3 sisters and one brother also became teachers. Now you wonder when and how we acquired the qualifications to teach school. I grant that we never attained to the modem standard, though some of us did study "Dutch" a little. But I will say that every one of us was counted a success and had the reputation, whether we deserved it or not, of doing good solid work.

You ask, did we ever have any recreation or fun? Yes, indeed, sandwiched in all along, but usually of the "safe and sane" kind., for I never went to a dance, or a circus, or a theater in any life. But where shall I begin this part of the story? There was a little log school house by the road side right in the woods. A thick forest of hemlock behind it, where were carpets of moss the like of which was never seen anywhere else. Hard by a bush lot [not sure these words correct] where were berrys and wild flowers always waiting to be plucked.

A limpid brook ripling over shiny pebles [sic]. A thing of untold delight. I can see it all now while I write. No wonder we all loved to go to school, for ever in all the world was there another such a place for a school house. As we grew older apple cuts, spelling schools, and singing schools were the order. Disciples of the great composer Bradberrv had created a taste for vocal music all over the country. There were singing schools in almost every neighborhood. Any group of young people could sing by note without the aid of an instrument. And singing was a [what is this word?] pasttime. Our father was always mixing work with play.

So quite often there were excursions for nuts berries, grapes fe[?]. The most interesting of these was the one to the top of a spur of the Aleghanies [sic] for huckbem'es. When we always camped at night on the top of the mountain we either forded or ferried the river which was always interesting, passed through a little town, and immediately began the assent. From the foot of the mountain to the summit was 3 good miles. The way was thinly wooded and very pleasant, but so steep we walked the most of the way. All along we could get occasional glimpses of the valley but when near the summit the whole valley like a beautiful panorama came into view. The river far below our feet like a silver ribbon winding in and out around the bluffs could be seen for many miles.

We could see our own home against the horizon 14 miles away. Two little towns, nestling at the foot of bluffs among the orchards, looked as we might suppose, like the very home of the Blissi-[?. I have seen some grand and awful places in my life time but for really beautiful mountain scenery I have never seen any that excels some of the beauty spots along the old Susquhanna [sic]. It goes without saying that father made good. The mortgage was soon lifted from the farm, more acres added, the place was built up and improved until it became one of the nicest in the country.

Moscow, May 1914

E. A. Shove"
Wesley SHOVE died after June 1914.³⁷

Elizabeth A. "Libbey" VAN DER VOORT and Wesley SHOVE had the following children: