Alford Tales -- Murder! Part 1

The death of Margaret Alford's father, Henry, is a mystery.  There is no evidence of what happened to him, but he existed.  Therefore he lived, bought land, fathered at least one child, then simply disappeared.  No records exist from the late 1770s that give evidence, so I've given Margaret a voice to tell a story.  I've taken the liberty to fill it out with description, dialog, a "It was a dark and stormy night," and a "The End."

So sit back and enjoy Part 1 of Margaret's Tale of Murder!

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It was a dark and stormy night. The signs told us that it would be.  The leaves on the trees had all turned over.  The forest animals hid.  And I noticed dark clouds forming to the west.  And God had sent us rain and thunder to Monroe County.

"Mr. Alford, do you want more apple pie or not?"  I got silence again.  I walked over to his chair by the fire and there he was.  Asleep.  Now I'd have some time for remembering.  So far, the year of our Lord 1836 had been a quiet one.  And now the autumn wasn't far away.  A few weeks and harvest time would be here.  It would my time to prepare for the winter again.  Churning butter. Drying pumpkin and herbs.  Again as I've done for many a winter before.

And soon, Mr. Alford and I would would be thankful for our 37th year, unless I decide to finally take the rolling pin to him. I've seen my children grow and move further west into what was the new land.  Ohio.  Remember it becoming a state in 1803.  Indiana in 1816, just twenty years ago.  Son John and his new bride, Eliza, had settled in a place called Hancock County.  Son James still here, talking about heading that way.  My daughter Sarah lives not far.  She and I will be quilting soon.  Need a new quilt.

My granddaughter has been helping me write, but this time, I am.  This tale is of murder, plain and simple.

My Pa, Henry Alford, came to Augusta County in 1768. He received a grant of land by 1771 and started a farmstead.  He had forty-six acres with forest and a creek nearby for water.  He had married my Mama, Nancy, before coming the county, bringing my older brothers to the new land.  I was born in 1773 in a simple cabin.  Rockingham County became a county in 1778 and I grew up there.  My Pa saw the founding of the new county during the war.  It was 1779 and I was 8 years that year.  I can remember the day that Pa went hunting.  That is when it started.

"Mama, when will Pa be home?  Do you know?"  Purl, knit, purl, knit, purl.  New row back the other direction.  The green yarn formed a new row on the garter.  Almost done.

"I'm not sure.  He is hunting down by the North River with Mr. Shank and Mr. Gwinn."  The wool twisted into the spindle and she kept feeding it more wool.  Eight balls that day, 35 for the week, 72 for the month.  "I've got to that this over to Mr. Alford so he can weave it into a blanket for us."

It was cold.  Winter was coming.  "Pa will be trading for it?  That old sow?"  Joseph was out in the barn. I could see him.  Bringing in wood. He was very strong for a twelve year old. He would take some of it to the saw mill with Pa when he got home.  Pine that would become lumber then to Mr. Rogers to become a new bookcase along the cabin wall.  Robert trailed him carrying as best he could same pieces of wood.  He was only three years.  Joseph eventually brought him into the cabin. 

Robert and Henry were my two younger brothers.  I kept eye on them.  Henry was only a year old.  Both too young to remember too much of our Pa, but never forgot him.  

"Pa's home." I saw him coming up the road.  Pa arrived back home with a few rabbits.  Stew would be dinner.  I greeted him at the door.

"There's my girl.  Knitting more garters. I could use a pair of new gloves."  He took the carving knife and went outside.

"She'll be learning soon enough.  Maybe by Christmas or the New Year."  Mama said to him as he left and to me "We'll get some blue from Mr. Alford when we take him the wool.  You can knit gloves.  I'll teach you.  Maybe Sally can help you."  My Aunt Sally lived not far and I would visit her to learn new stitches.

That night, I remember Pa telling us a tale about the North River.  He said "An old Indian witch lived there and her ghost haunted the small island out in the river."  His face was in half shadow from the fire.  I can still see him. His eyes looked dark.  I was scared by his tale.  "Small children have disappeared there.  Maybe became her dinner."  I felt Henry and Robert snuggle closer to my side.  He leaned forward in his chair.  "So you better not go near it."

"Stop scaring them like that."  Mama could see we were scared. That night I dreamt of an old witch coming after me.  I was running through the woods.  I kept waking up scared that she would get me.

A few days later, we took the wagon into Harrisonburg. Pa took wood to Mr. Rogers.  Mama went to the store to trade some more garters and a shawl she had knit up.  That was the day that we saw General Washington come riding through, off to Baltimore some said.  Some said to New York City.  I remember him well.  He looked down at me from on his horse.

Later that day, Pa and Joseph went to over to William Hinds for a meeting about the war.  Mama and I worried that Pa would leave to fight.