There was no change in the family at Prospect after Sallie's marriage
in 1808 until 1817. On Jan. 17th of the latter year Robert married
Eunice Bent, of Fort Lawrence, a sister of Harmon's wife, and in
October Amos married Susanna Ripley, a sister of Willie's wife.
Robert settled on a farm adjoining the homestead. His house was not built until the summer following his marriage. James, his eldest child, was born 30th October, 1817, in the Brick House at Prospect Farm. Amos settled at the head of Amherst (now called Truemanville). The following letter, written by his youngest daughter, Mrs. Sarah Patterson, is very interesting, as giving some idea of the experiences of that time:
"When my father first came to live in the place now called Truemanville it was a dense forest. In summer the only road was a bridle path. In winter, when the snow was on the ground, they could drive a pair of oxen and a sled along the road. "The winter my father was married, as soon as there was enough snow and frost, he and one of his brothers and another man set out to build a house. "They loaded a sled with boards, doors and windows, and provided themselves with bedding and provisions to last till the house was finished. They then hitched the oxen to the sled and started on their twenty-mile journey and most of the way on a trackless path. "When they arrived at their journey's end, they erected a rude hut to live in and commenced building a house. They did not have to go far for timber—it was standing all around the site chosen for the house. "They built a very nice log house, 15 ft. by 18 ft. Their greatest trouble in building was, the stones were so frosty they could not split them. They had to kindle a huge fire of brushwood and warm the stones through, when they split finely. "After they had built the house they returned home, having been absent about three weeks. "My father and mother then moved to their new home, and father began to build a saw mill and grist mill. "Their nearest neighbors were one and a half miles distant, unless we count the bears and foxes, and they were far too sociable for anything like comfort. Sheep and cattle had to be folded every night for some years. "After father had built his grist mill he used to keep quite a number of hogs. In the fall of the year, when the beechnuts began to drop, the men used to drive them into the woods, where they would live and grow fat on the nuts. One evening when my mother was returning from a visit to one of the neighbors she heard a terrible squealing in the woods. She at once suspected that bruin designed to dine off one of the hogs. She hastened home to summon the men to the rescue, but darkness coming on they had to give up the chase. However, bruin did not get any pork that night; the music was too much for him, and piggie escaped with some bad scratches. "A short time after this, ominous squeaks were heard from the woods. The men armed themselves with pitchforks and ran to the rescue. What should they meet but one of my uncles coming with an ox-cart. The wooden axles had got very dry on the long, rough road, and as they neared my father's the sound as the wheels turned resembled very closely that made by a hog under the paws of bruin. "Imagine the way of travelling in those days! I have heard my father say there were only two carriages between Point de Bute and Truemanville. Their principal mode of travel was on horseback. My father and mother visited Grandfather Trueman's with their three children. Mother took the youngest on one horse, and father took the two older ones on another horse; and yet we often hear people talk of the 'good old times.' "My father was a man of generous disposition. The poor and needy always found him ready to sympathize and help them. He often supplied grain to them when there was no prospect of payment. He would say, 'A farmer can do without many things, but not without seed grain.' That reminds me of an incident I will tell you, of our Grandfather Trueman. About thirty- five years ago my mother was visiting at Stephen Oxley's, at Tidnish, where she met an old lady whose name I forget; but no matter. When she heard my mother's name she began talking about Grandfather Trueman. She said she would never forget his kindness to her in her younger days when she and her husband first came from the Old Country and began life among strangers in very straightened circumstances. After passing through a hard winter in which food had been very scarce they found themselves in the spring without any seed wheat or the means of buying any. "Her husband was almost in despair. She tried to cheer him up by telling him that if she went to Mr. Trueman she thought he would help them. So her husband agreed to let her try her chance, and she mounted a horse and set out for Prospect Farm. Just as she arrived there another woman came in and asked Mr. Trueman to sell her some wheat, telling him she had money to pay for it. Grandfather said he had very little wheat to sell but he could let her have a bushel or two. The old lady said her heart almost sank within her; she thought her case was hopeless. However, she told him she, too, had come for seed wheat, but she had no money nor the means of getting any at present, and they were entirely without seed. Grandfather turned to the other woman and said, 'You have money' go to Mr.——- (a neighbor), you can get as much as you want, and I will give this woman the grain.' Oh, how glad she felt! Words were too poor to express her thanks, and she went home rejoicing. In after years, when Providence had favored her with a goodly share of this world's goods, she could not tell this experience without the tears running down her cheeks. How true it is, 'The memory of the just is blessed.'"
The following letter received from a son of Rev. William Black, is of some interest:
"HALIFAX, N.S., "27th Sept. 1819. "MR. WILLIAM TRUEMAN, "DEAR SIR,—Your favor of the 20th inst. is at hand, and in reply to it, as relates to the probable price of Butter, I would state it as my opinion that it is likely to command about 14d. A considerable quantity of Irish Butter has already arrived and more is expected. A number of firkins have this day been sold at public auction at 1s. per lb.,—the quality is said to be very fair. Please say to Mrs. Wells that I have received her letter of the 24th inst., and shall do as she requests. Mrs. Black and family are well, and join me in best regards to Mrs. Trueman, Yourself and Family. "Yrs. Truly, "M. G. BLACK."
After Amos and Robert left Prospect for homes of their own, the family remained unchanged until 1820. That year, Mary, the second daughter, married William Humphrey, of Sackville. William Humphrey was a carpenter by trade but shortly after his marriage bought a farm in Upper Maccan and went quite extensively into farming and milling.
The Humphreys were from Yorkshire, and after coming to America, settled first at Falmouth, Nova Scotia. After the death of Wm. Humphrey, sen., Mrs. Humphrey, following the advice of her friend, Charles Dixon, moved to Sackville with her family of five children, three sons and two daughters. James Dixon says of Mrs. Humphrey, in his history of the Dixons: "She was evidently a capable woman," and judging from the position her descendants have taken in the new country he was probably right in his estimate.
As I remember the second William Humphrey, he was a man of more than ordinary intelligence, one who looked closely at both sides of a question, and with whom every new undertaking was well thought out beforehand. He had no place for the man who wanted to make a show. He was, for the times, a large employer of labor, and his men did not readily leave his employ. He was possessed of strong religious convictions, but was by no means demonstrative in such matters. His children were given good educational opportunities. Two of his sons studied and graduated at colleges in the United States, and two others were students at the old Academy, at Sackville.
The following letter, written by William, one of the sons who was educated in the United States, to his cousin Ruth, will show how graduates of that day looked upon life:
"NEW HAVEN, June 27th, 1853. "DEAR COUSIN, "Your very welcome letter came to hand in due time, for which I am exceedingly obliged, especially as many of my correspondents have been dilatory and others have given me up altogether. But they probably have as much reason to complain of me as I have of them. The truth is my studies so occupy my attention that I am too much inclined to forget my friends. The acquisition of a profession presents such an immensity of labor that it would seem to require a lifetime to become proficient, especially when the small amount of energy that I can command is brought to bear upon it. However, I am not disposed to find fault with the labor so long as there is so much that is intensely interesting and I can make respectable progress towards the grand crisis of a student's life. "New Haven is equally as attractive as it was during my college life and I feel more at home here than in any other place in the United States during the present summer so far. I have become acquainted with the professional men of the city from whom I have received many favors and many of whom I hope to regard as my future friends. Through their influence I have had an opportunity of treating a number of patients, which is no small advantage to me in my studies. I confess I am so much attached to the city I should like to make it my home if it were practicable, but it is so much crowded with physicians that there is no room for me. In reply to your question as to what pleasure it afforded me to receive my diploma, I can very readily say that it was far from affording me anything like a thrill of pleasure to look back upon my acquirements. I rather felt as a tired traveller might be supposed to feel when, having exerted himself to reach the top of the first peak on a mountain, he has only secured a position where he can see Alpine peaks towering to the skies, which he must scale before his journey is ended. I very many times have felt as though I was not a particle wiser since I graduated than before I first left home, yet I suppose I may claim more than this for myself without being thought vain or arrogant, but what advantage either myself or others are to reap from it remains to be seen. I hope I am better prepared to spend the remainder of my life more profitably than I was before, with higher aims and in possession of greater capacity for enjoyment myself and of doing good to others. I cannot yet tell when I shall get my medical degree, yet if fortune favors and I get along with my studies pretty well, it will not be longer than fourteen months. I would like to arrange my plans to leave for home as soon as I get through, but it is so long beforehand that I do not think about it yet. "I shall have a short vacation of a few weeks, commencing with August 1st, when I should like to be at home, but I do not deem it best for me to go this summer. I shall probably go into the country 'round. I shall probably return to Philadelphia early in October and spend the winter there, which will end my residence in that city, unless I should remain longer to attend the hospital and see more practice than I could otherwise. "From the accounts I hear from home you still have need of doctors, for people continue to be sick and die. "Think you there will be any patronage for me? But your answer will probably depend upon my worthiness of it. "But I must hasten to close. I shall be happy to hear from you whenever you are disposed to write. "Kind regards to your mother, sisters and brothers. "Very sincerely yours, "WILLIAM F. HUMPHREY. "To: "MISS RUTH TRUEMAN, "Point de Bute."