22 May 1825 Fox River, White County, Illinois

As I work outside in the garden, I do some of my deepest thinking. Just as I do a physical digging, hoeing, and planting, I do the same with my mental thoughts. How in the name of the Lord’s Providence am I going to weed out all the unthinkable that will come our way? I have little recourse. I have little powers as a mother and a woman. I have little abilities that can save us.

This is the third summer my husband Daniel is not here. In that time, I have learned that I am entitled to one third of the farm as Daniel left no will. All the goods in the house do belong to me. Who doesn’t belong to me is our children…my precious son and daughter. The children are the property of their father. Without his protection, my son can and probably will be taken from me to be bonded out to a farmer as an apprentice. My boy Amos is only 7 years old…how could this happen? In the meanwhile, my adult stepsons have promised on their word that they will help out.

Each swipe of the hoe on the earth is like a silent prayer being prayed. Each planting of a seed is like asking God to plant strength and resilience inside me. Like the promise of a good yield in the garden, I feel the promise of an unexpected faith and strength to subside me and my family. As I brush my hands together as I end my work, I place the hoe back by the cabin. The hands together are like a silent Amen as I finish my prayer of petition. “Lord, give me unexpected strength to meet this trial.”

~Rhoda Howell Boultinghouse

Note: Rhoda was my second great grandmother. With the death of her husband Daniel in 1823, she had to face many trials alone. Her fears of her son being taken from her were realized on 27 July 1835 when he was bounded out to Benjamin McCallister in Christian County, Kentucky. From Illinois to Kentucky…where will the Boultinghouse story lead next?

30 May 1823 Fox River, White County, Illinois

Dearest Mother and Father,
It is with deepest sorrow that I tell you my beloved Daniel has passed. He was working in the fields with little Amos when he collasped to the ground. Our boy ran to me and his sister for help. We could do nothing. We were helpless and grief-stricken.

Since the children and I are alone on the farm since Daniel’s passing, our neighbors the Ralls have commited him to eternal rest in their family cemetery. I can take the children to the grave to leave flowers and mementos. I fear in time his unmarked grave will become just a part of the plains. With such sorrow in my heart, I can barely think.

My children Amos, who is five years old, and Matilda, who is nine, are so young to be fatherless. I have asked my stepsons to enter into guardianship for them. I am also asking them for protection on the farm. My mind is all discombobulated in trying to figure out what will happen to us. I am relying on God to overshadow us with His Divine Providence.

In a few days, I will journey to the county seat in Carmi as I am accompanied by my stepson Kennison. Daniel’s debts will be paid off and money owed him will be declared. A sad journey, indeed. May God give me the strength to do what is just and right.

In closing, dearest parents, I ask for your prayers and good intentions toward our little family.

Your loving daughter,
Rhody

Note: Rhody (Rhoda) Howell and Daniel Boultinghouse are my third great grandparents. Their son Amos Howell Boultinghouse is my second great grandfather. Together they settled in White County, Illinois and are counted as a founding family in that county. Rhoda’s appearance at the county courthouse in Carmi on 3 June 1823 is the last written record of her. What was her life like after Daniel’s passing?

14 April 1839 Fox River, White County, Illinois

Dearest son Amos,
As I sit here writing to you, I ask the Lord to keep you safe in New York. Since you enlisted in the Army last year, you have been so far away from us. You are seeing places we will never visit. I put my trust in the Lord to keep you faithful and prudent. You are so young yet there is a fire in you.

As I look out over our prairie farm, I notice your absence in the fields as you would work side by side with your brothers. When we have meals, I note that your chair is empty…I long for you to fill it once again. When I want to soothe myself with reading the Lord’s words, I find your letters tucked in our Bible.

My question for you is what sent you so far from us when you enlisted. What made you make that choice? Perhaps, your father’s and grandfather’s senses of defending our peoples and our lands sent you to it. I pray that this decision sends you back safely to us. I long for your homecoming.

Your sister Matilda sends prayers. She and Henry will be married in July as they are most anxious to start farming.

Blessings, my son
Your loving mother (Rhoda Howell Boultinghouse)

Note: Rhoda Howell Boultinghouse was my third great grandmother. She was widowed when her son Amos (my second great grandfather) was only 5 years old. Amos enlisted in the U. S. Army in 1838 when he was 19. He would later reenlist in 1861 as a member of the 55th Illinois during the Civil War. Both are very dear to me.