Fess Parker and 20th Century Fox own the rights to the characters created for the TV show Daniel Boone. No copyright violations are intended. This work of fiction is solely for the enjoyment of DB fans. I promise to treat the characters gently, and if the going gets a bit rough, I'll (eventually) make it all better.
One of the most enjoyable aspects of fanfiction is taking characters in directions you would normally never see them go. This is one such example. Part 1 is in the form of letters written by Daniel Boone's almost 15 year old daughter Jemima Kathleen Boone. Parts 2 and 3 are in narrative form. For those not familiar with the TV show, it aired in the 1960's- family fare you don't see today, unfortuneately.
Daniel Boone's wife is Rebecca and they have a son, Israel. They are moving from Virginia to Ken Tuckee, which is the crossroad of many of the region's native residents. Daniel meets a Native American, Mingo, and they become fast friends- as close as brothers, in many ways.There is, however, an attitude of prejudice against the Indians in Boonesborough, the fort Boone founds. Its residents, trappers, settlers, etc., are usually quick to condemn, while Boone tries to see a man for who he is inside, not how he appears outside. The story begins in 1775. Boone has returned from Ken Tuckee with a visitor.
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Rated K+
My Dearest Friend
Dear Eliza, March 1775
I was very happy to get your letter. There are more trappers coming through here now so it should not be as hard to write each other like before. I miss having you nearby to talk to.
We are moving to Ken Tuckee but I will still try to write after we move. Pa said there is plenty of good land over the mountains for settlers. There is a trail over the mountains that the Indians made and they might not want us using it so there might be fighting. He and a group of men will go first and build a fort where we will live. I am kind of scared but Ma says we will follow Pa and he will keep us safe. There are more settlers now in Virginia and a lot less Indian attacks so I hope there will be lots of settlers coming to Ken Tuckee and also lots of boys.
Pa and his friend Yadkin went to Ken Tuckee to see what it was like. When he came home last week he brought an Indian with him! I was very scared when the Indian walked in our cabin.
I will describe him to you. He is as big as Pa but looks taller I think because of the two feathers in his hair. His hair is long and shiny black. He wears lots of beads and a buckskin vest and blue pants and he has a rifle like Pa's Ticklicker and a knife. He has a long leather strip that is braided called a bullwhip. I don't know what the whip is for but Yadkin said it could cut a man clean open!
He looked scary at first but then he started talking and he is not so scary. He does not sound like any Indian I ever heard. Ma said he must have a lot of learning but no one dared to ask. She told Israel it would be prying and said she would whup his bottom if he did.
The Indian asked me my name and when I told him he said Jemima Kathleen was the loveliest name he had ever heard. I think he was joshing me. He quoted a poem about a fair maiden. It was pretty words.
Please write to me and tell me about your birthday supper. Did Enoch come? Since I will be 15 at the end of this month Ma said I could have callers then. I just hope there will be boys nearby in Ken Tuckee to come calling.
Your friend,
Jemima Kathleen Boone
Dear Eliza, November 1775
I hope this letter finds its way to you. A trapper heading east said he would take it to Roanoke when he leaves tomorrow. We are in Ken Tuckee living in a fort made of log walls. They call it Boonesborough because Pa is the leader. He wants to build us a cabin but says it is too dangerous yet. There are 15 families here and others who come and go, mostly trappers and traders. We have been attacked 3 times.
Are there many Redcoats in Williamsburg? We've heard tell that there are Redcoats crossing the mountains. Do be careful.
Do you remember I told you Pa had an Indian friend? He is a Cherokee Indian. His name is Mingo and he is still Pa's friend and he has not attacked the fort but some settlers think he will and do not like him being here. Pa said he is his friend no matter if he is an Indian.
Mingo said he wants to help the Indians and settlers get along, but he knew more settlers would keep coming here and there would be less land for the Indians. He said Indians did not believe in one person owning land. Is that not strange? He said settlers wanted to own the land and there would be fighting and many settlers and Indians would die. He looked sad and so did Ma.
Israel got a whupping for asking Mingo how he came to talk so good. Mingo did not get mad but Ma did. Israel can be such the fool sometimes. He asked Mingo if he was a soldier because he talked like the Redcoat officer in Virginia. Mingo kneeled down in front of Israel and said he "was not an officer of His Majesty's army" but he went to England with his father when he was about Israel's age and attended school there.
My brother just does not know when to keep quiet and asked where Mingo's ma was when he left for England. I think if Ma could have gotten ahold of Israel right then I would be an only child now. Mingo said he did not mind Israel asking questions and said his ma died before he left.
Pa said a man's past was no man's business and apologized. Mingo seemed embarrassed and said because his pa is English and his ma was Indian it puts him in an awkward position most of the time and he usually lets people think what they wanted to about him. He said he wanted us to know because he considered us his friends. Pa told us later that Mingo had paid us a high compliment.
We found out what the whip is for. He can swing it around and jerk it fast and make it snap against things real hard. One day he was showing Israel how to use it and let him try it. You know how hardheaded Israel is and he swung it around wild. It almost hit my face but Mingo stuck his arm up and caught it. It cut his arm bad but he did not get angry though I know it must have hurt something awful. When Israel saw the blood running down Mingo's arm he started crying. Mingo said experience is a good teacher. Ma said there was another good way to teach a lesson and Israel got a whupping.
Indian trouble has kept us in the fort but there hasn't been trouble for a while so we are able to leave the fort and hunt. Ma and me and Israel have been gathering nuts and wild apples for the coming winter. Israel says he feels like a squirrel.
There are not many boys around here so none have come calling. One boy helped me carry a bucket of water from the water barrel to our room but he and his pa left a week ago and we haven't seen them since. I wonder what happened to them.
I must close now as this letter is getting too long.
Your friend,
Jemima Kathleen Boone
Dear Eliza, June 1776
Your 16th birthday party must have been wonderful. And a betrothal too! Do you think your parents will give permission when Enoch asks them? I am sure they will.
I always think of you on my birthday since our birthdays are only 6 days apart in March and we are the same age. My 16th birthday was not as exciting as yours and I am not engaged to be married. Ma made me a new apron and Pa gave me several folds of pretty blue cloth. Ma said she would help me make a new dress from it. Mingo gave me a muff made from rabbit fur.
Last week, he gave me a book of poetry! He said it was a belated birthday present. I don't know where he got it. Ma said he must have gone to a lot of trouble to get it for me. He read one of the poems and it was beautiful. He made it sound happy and sad all at the same time.
No, Mingo is not married. I know because Israel asked- another whipping- and Mingo said he was not but did not say anything more about it. He enjoys reading and discussing literature and can make an author's words so clear it all makes sense. He has been reading one of Shakespeare's plays to me and Israel and he makes it sound so real you forget he is only reading it. He and Pa trap during the winter and hunt together. He sometimes gets involved with the disputes and problems the settlers and Indians have, but not all the settlers and Indians like him and some try to hurt him.
We found out more about Mingo. You might not believe this, but his father is Lord Dunsmore, the governor of Virginia! Everyone was surprised and Mingo seemed very uncomfortable when his father showed up in Boonesborough. Pa said Lord Dunsmore was going to cheat the Indians and Mingo tried to convince his father not to but he would not listen. Mingo found a treaty that stopped Lord Dunsmore from taking the Indian's land and that made his father as mad as a wet hen.
I heard Pa telling Ma about some of the things Lord Dunsmore said to Mingo and in front of nearly the whole town. It was hurtful things. I'm very glad I have a ma and pa that love me. It must be awful to have your own pa dislike you. Pa said having your own kin turn against you was one of the worst things to bear. I wish I could let him know we care about him. He has helped us a lot and looks after us when Pa is gone. He is a good friend.
I almost forgot to tell you that we are in our own cabin now. It is about a mile from Boonesborough depending on which trail you take. One trail goes straight through the woods but the other follows a ridge near a big creek. I call it the Moon Trail because you can see the moon and open sky from it. Jericho likes to take that trail when he walks me home. It takes longer.
I have not told you about Jericho because he moved here after my last letter. Since I am 16 now Ma lets me keep company with him. He is nice and is good looking. He comes calling often and I think he likes me. I like him too.
Pa says there could be trouble with the British over what happened in Boston recently. Please be careful, my friend.
Give your mother and grandmother my best.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, January 1777
I am so happy for you! I wish I could be there when you and Enoch get married. How can you bear to wait 3 months till you are 17? I think I would be too excited. Write and tell me all about the wedding your mother is planning. I'm sure it will be grand. Please enclose a scrap of material from your wedding dress with your next letter so I can at least imagine it. I truly am happy for you.
I will try to answer the questions you asked in your last letter. No, Jericho has not said anything about getting married, but he has hinted that he wants to settle down. I'm glad because I do not know what I would say. He is nice, I must admit.
No, there are not Indian attacks every day, so it is not always a frightening place to live. I am more afraid of coming across a bear than an Indian, although both can be fierce. Some times are more unsettled than others. The Redcoats have been in the area causing more problems between the settlers and Indians. We heard the Continental Congress declared the colonies to be independent, but nothing has changed here. Pa said it might come to fighting. I hope not.
Yes, there are a few more young men in Boonesborough now that more people are coming to settle. I have never thought about if Mingo is handsome because he is just a friend. I would say he is pleasant looking though. No, he does not live with us but he and Pa hunt and trap together so he is at our cabin often. His tribe lives half a day's walk from here but they move around during the year. Unless he is with Pa, or us, I think he spends much of his time alone.
I told you many of the settlers do not trust him. A few weeks ago, someone wet the stores of gunpowder just before Indians attacked Boonesborough. Many people blamed Mingo because he left just before the Indians arrived. It was hard to fight with so little powder, and 3 men were killed and part of the town burned. When Mingo came back 2 days later, a group of men beat him then tried to hang him. Pa stopped them and we later found out it was a trapper who was working for a group of Frenchmen who did not want more and more settlers and trappers in the area. I'm glad Pa was there.
Please tell me all about your wedding. Don't leave out any details!
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, October 1777
The material was beautiful and I know you looked lovely. Thank you for describing everything so vividly. Even though I could not be there, you know my heart was with you.
It has been rather quiet here, for the most part. Pa and Mingo are involved in some of the goings on in the area, but I cannot say much about it. They do not talk about it around Israel and me, although if I ask Mingo, he will explain what he knows of current events. I think Pa tries to protect me from worrying. I still worry- not knowing is sometimes worse than half-knowing.
Ma tries not to appear anxious when Pa has to leave and there are Redcoats looking for him, but I know she frets until he comes home safe. I know something of how she feels for I am troubled and cannot sleep well until he and Mingo are home.
Jericho walked me to our cabin two nights ago and we, of course, took the longer Moon Trail. He said he wanted to look at the stars, so we stopped for a while. I think it was just an excuse because the sky was overcast. In fact, it looked like it was going to rain. Well, let me tell you what happened. I got my first kiss!…eventually.
We sat on a log and looked at the clouds for a while and Jericho scooted closer to me. A few minutes later, he scooted over some more and put his arm around me. I guess I should have told him not to, but it was nice, so I didn't. We sat there for a while longer then he asked if I minded if he kissed me. I said I did not mind. All that scooting around on the log must have disturbed a little bobcat trying to sleep inside it, and she did mind! She came out hissing and spitting and I screamed and Jericho started hollering and I guess they could hear us clear over in Virginia!
Probably as scared as us, the bobcat ran off- it was not much bigger than a dog- and we sat back down. Jericho banged on the log first to make sure nothing else was in it. Jericho went to put his arm around me, but it startled me and I screamed again.
Just about the time we were settled back on the log, with Jericho's arm around me (he warned me first), and ready to give kissing another try, we heard something that sounded like a big grizzly coming through the woods at a run. We jumped up but somehow my legs got tangled with Jericho's (our arms were already tangled) and we fell to the ground in a heap. That was the moment we found out it was not a bear we'd disturbed, but it was Mingo!
I suppose with my yelling, and Jericho and I rolling on the ground, it was not difficult for Mingo to think Jericho was trying to take liberties. Mingo had Jericho dangling in the air by the scruff of his jacket before I could explain.
After I finally convinced him nothing improper occurred, Mingo dropped Jericho rather abruptly and said he would accompany us back to the cabin "just in case we ran up on another ferocious creature such as a squirrel or raccoon." Mingo walked behind us the whole way.
Jericho stewed over this, but once we arrived at the cabin without any further incident and Mingo left us alone outside the door (he said to be careful of the chipmunk family under the porch), Jericho's mood improved. We decided to give kissing one last try, and I finally got my first kiss from a boy!
It was nice, but in the middle of it, I remembered what Mingo said about the chipmunks and started giggling. Jericho thought I was laughing at him and stomped away mad. He tripped on the butter churn, which made such a clatter both Mingo and Pa came out. Pa just stared at Jericho who was sprawled out on the porch. Pa has a way of staring at people that makes them speechless.
Mingo folded his arms and calmly asked if the chipmunks were giving us trouble and I laughed so hard at that I could not say goodnight to Jericho.
Not a very romantic first kiss, was it? Maybe next time there won't be any bobcats or fierce chipmunks around!
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, May 1778
What is it like being married? Do you remember the times we sat on your porch discussing our dreams about what it would be like to be a wife? Were our dreams silly? I cannot help but wonder what it will be like having my own family, or if I ever will. I wonder how I will know if a man is the right one for me. Is it hard to tell? Did you know as soon as you met Enoch or was it later?
How do you know when you love someone? Do you know in your head as well as your heart? Jericho is very nice and makes a good living trapping with his father, but when I think about being with him day after day, I wonder what it would really be like. Do you and Enoch agree on everything? Are there times you do not have anything to talk about? I'm afraid we would have nothing to discuss or share after a while.
I ask you this because I have a problem and I am hesitant to talk with Ma about it. After my 18th birthday dinner last week, Jericho took me for a walk and asked me to marry him. His asking was not a surprise, but even so I could not give him an answer. I told him I needed some time to consider.
I know I will have to decide before you can get this and write back, but it helps to know that someone else understands what is in your heart. I wish we could talk as we used to. I will probably discuss it with Ma after I have gotten my thoughts together. Ma was married and a mother to me by my age.
Being 18 now, I feel like I should be doing something. It is tempting to accept Jericho's proposal, but I have to be sure. Several families have asked me to teach their children and I would like to very much. Many of the parents do not know how to read or write, but they want their children to know. Ma taught us so we were fortunate. Mingo has helped with Israel in the past two years. He is very patient and keeps Israel's attention, which is not easy.
Jericho said women do not need much learning and thinks I should not teach, but he could not give me a good reason why not. I asked Mingo and he said sharing the gift of knowledge blesses not only the receiver but also the giver.
We had not seen Mingo for several weeks, so I was pleased when he came for my birthday dinner. He told Pa there is trouble within his tribe and opposition to the chief who is a relative of his. I hope he will not be in danger. I am worried that someone will hurt him.
Mingo gave me two books and a package of paper for my birthday! He is such a dear friend. We sat by the fire last night on the big rug made from a bear Pa killed last winter, and read selections to each other and discussed them. I could listen to him read all night and almost did! It was nearly daybreak before we realized it, and he and Pa had a two-day walk ahead of them. I felt bad because he had no sleep when they left this morning. He said he didn't mind missing sleep to talk with me but did not want me to feel tired for my chores today. Is that not funny- we were worried about each other. I hope they come home soon.
It has been difficult getting a letter off, so I apologize for not writing before now. We had to return to the fort again this spring and the Indian raids kept the men from planting crops. Pa says it may be a hard winter so we are planting a second garden.
Israel and Ma are going to town and will take this letter, so I must close.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, February 1779
Has there been trouble there? Please be careful. We have had Redcoats in the area looking for Pa and Mingo. Our friend Cincinnatus said since the people listen to Pa, the British would not want him opposing the Crown. Pa said he'd bet a winter's fur harvest that Lord Dunsmore sent troops after Mingo. Imagine a father doing that! He has not been here lately. Some of the townspeople have tried to help the Redcoats find Mingo. I do not understand why they dislike him. I miss him. I wish the King would just let the colonies be.
We heard that General George Rogers Clark has men camped on the Ohio River to protect settlers. I hope it will bring peace to the area.
Pa has been very busy trying to foil the Redcoats and the Indians that have taken up with them. Mingo says the Indians are in a difficult position. They do not trust the settlers and when the British promise them the land back, they cling to that hope. It must be hard for him, caught between his two peoples. I wish I could make things easier for him.
I did not agree to marry Jericho. He says I want too much, that my sights are too high and are not reasonable. He says I should settle for a real person and not go hunting after a dream. I tried to explain that he is very nice, but I just didn't feel we were right for each other. I am afraid he is angry. I don't think it is unreasonable to want to be absolutely sure about the man you marry, do you?
I could tell Pa was surprised and disappointed, but Ma wasn't. She said I would know when I met the man I should marry. I am nearly 19 years old and thought that by now we surely would have met.
One night Mingo went outside to get firewood and I followed him. I did not know whether I should or not, but I wanted to ask him for his advice. I trust him and I knew he would give me an honest answer. I asked if it was right to settle for caring instead of love. He was very quiet for a while then took my hands in his and said that my heart was a precious a gift and to never settle for anything less than love. I suppose he is right, but it is hard not to feel discouraged.
Keeping busy is the best thing I can do, at the moment. I have three students that I teach twice a week and several more may be joining the class soon. Teaching them is a joy and I take great pleasure in it.
It is hard to believe that you little sister Sara is keeping company already! It would be wonderful to see her and, of course, you, again. Perhaps one day we will have that chance.
It has been a hard winter, just as Pa said it would. We eat a great deal of venison, but I heard Pa and Mingo talking about how the deer and other game are getting scarce with all the settlers and trappers coming in. I hope Pa doesn't have us move.
Please stay safe.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, August 1779
A little girl! I think Abigail is a beautiful name. I wish I could see her. Sara was always talented at drawing. Please ask her to sketch Abigail for me and send it with your next letter.
I am teaching seven children now and two of the parents sometimes sit in on my class. We meet at the town hall, which is what we use for meetings, speeches, or gatherings such as weddings. Two of my students read from the Scriptures at this month's Sunday services and I was very proud of them.
We had to spend nearly a month in the fort this summer. Pa said it was Indians from up north. During the fighting, Israel sneaked away from Ma and climbed up on the fort's wall with one of Pa's guns. The gun's kick knocked him backwards and he fell onto Widow Blackburn's hen house roof making it cave in, and the widow had to chase down her chickens that she claims are the best layers in Boonesborough.
Ma was scared Israel had hurt himself and she did not fuss at him but held him in her arms, which embarrassed Israel to no end. Ma said he had to scrub down the henhouse for the widow and he said he'd rather have a whipping, so she gave him one and he still has to scrub the coop. Israel will never learn to keep his mouth closed.
The widow and her sister, Miss Essie, keep asking when I'm going to find a husband. Widow Blackburn said 19 is just too old to still be single. I've about given up. There is no one here among the young men I feel anything for.
Thomas Cade walked me home one evening and said he'd be obliged if I would marry him since he was tired of doing his own washing, cleaning, and cooking and he knew my ma and pa must be fretting terribly over my still being at home and unmarried.
Fortunately, we ran into Mingo on the trail and I excused myself from Mr. Cade's presence and asked Mingo to walk with me the rest of the way. I was not in a good mood and Mingo must have known it because he spent the whole time quoting funny lines from Much Ado About Nothing. He had me laughing by the time we got home. I think I would rather spend time with Mingo more than anyone else I know.
It is late and I must stop. Ma and I are making soap tomorrow and we must start early.
Give sweet Abigail a kiss for me.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, May 1780
Please thank Sara for the drawing of Abigail. She is a beautiful child. I am very glad to hear you are recovering from the fever. Please follow the advice of your mother and grandmother and do not exert yourself. Your daughter needs you back and in full health.
We have heard that there are more British forces in Georgia and Carolina and that the Cherokee there have joined with the British. Pa and Mingo were at the local tavern in Boonesborough when everyone got the news and Pa told Ma that every man in the place turned to look at Mingo, who was reading a Philadelphia newspaper a trader brought last week. Mingo ignored them, but a dozen men stood up and demanded outright that Mingo leave Boonesborough, so he did.
Pa left with him and the two of them came to our cabin. Ma saw red when she heard what happened, but Mingo explained that it would do no one any good if he stayed and trouble erupted, so it was best if he went away.
He asked to borrow the book of Shakespeare's comedies he gave me two years ago, and promised he would return it unharmed. I told Mingo I was more concerned about him and he laughed and said in that case, he would do his best to return himself and Mr. Shakespeare in good condition.
He's not been back for 7 weeks and I don't know where he is. Pa said he might have gone to Virginia. Mingo did not tell anyone for fear of putting them in danger. I cannot help but worry for my dear friend. I cannot believe I am 20 years old and have known Mingo for 5 years. It seems like I've known him forever.
This is certainly a mournful letter and I apologize. The world is turned upside down and cannot seem to right itself. I know Williamsburg must be even more unsettled. Please take care of yourself and the baby.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, November 1780
I hope this letter can make it into Williamsburg. We have heard that there are many British troops there. Please be very careful and do not go out more than necessary.
Over the summer, many of the Redcoats in the area left, so it is much calmer now. Mingo returned in August. I was sorely glad to see him! He returned unharmed, but unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Mr. Shakespeare - a musket ball was imbedded in the book! Mingo was very apologetic, but I do not care a whit for it stopped the ball from hitting him and that is all that matters.
Next week, he and Pa will leave to set traps. Israel is going with them and has been about to burst with pride. They will be gone for almost a month.
Pa brought home a newcomer to the area, Silas Cummings, for dinner recently. Mr. Cumming is a widower who lost his wife and his four-year-old son in an Indian raid in Virginia last year. To make a short story even shorter, after calling on me and walking me home several times, he asked me to marry him. I feel sad for him, but do not love him.
Pa said I could do a lot worse than marrying Mr. Cummings and that fondness grows. I suppose that is so. Still, I could not give my assent and Pa did not say anything more about it. I hope he was not disappointed again, but I fear he is.
Ma and I will be making soap while Pa and Mingo are gone, and we are cutting squares for a quilt to work on over the winter and will use the scraps to finish a rag rug we began last spring. This should make the time pass since the nights are getting quite long now.
My thoughts are with you and I pray for your safety.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, December 1781
I was very happy to hear that Abigail has a little brother. I'm sure Enoch is proud to have a son. Does he favor his father? I am certain he is a beautiful baby.
I have news, too! Ma and Pa said now that the hostilities are over I can come visit! Your mother is very kind to have asked me and I truly do not know how to thank her. It will be wonderful to see you again and to meet Enoch and, of course, Abigail. I'm sure I will not recognize Sara as she has grown so much since we were last together.
The parties and bees sound exciting but I am afraid I will seem rather backwards to your friends. Pa says there's no use worrying about what others think of you. Ma says manners, a smile, and plenty of good sense are all a young woman needs and that I have all three.
Mingo said, "Kathleen, you have grace and beauty to carry you into any royal court in Europe"! He always says such nice things. Still, it is pleasant to hear. Mingo has called me Kathleen since I was a young girl. I don't know why, but I suppose it is just something special between us, and I must admit that I like it. I will miss him while in Williamsburg but I hope the money I earned teaching will be enough to buy a book for him.
Miss Essie said I should find a beau while I am there and get married since I am going on 22 and am almost beyond marrying age. The Widow Blackburn said I most likely had another good year left although at my age, I'd best not be picky about a man and should take what comes. I do hope I have more than another good year left!
I have been thinking about what Mingo said- that love was a precious gift. I know I will not settle for anything but love, but do I wish it would hurry up and find me. Maybe it is waiting for me in Williamsburg!
Mingo offered to take this to the tavern and find someone headed east to carry it, so I must not write longer. Ma and I have two dresses to finish so there is plenty to do. Pa will bring me as soon as the mountain passes are open in the spring. I am so excited I can hardly sleep at night!
I will see you before long!
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Mingo, May 1782
Williamsburg is so different from Boonesborough I scarcely know where to start. There always seems to be a party or get-together of some sort going on. I was hesitant at first and concerned I would be out of place and would embarrass my friend, but everyone has been very kind and I have made several new friends in the two months I've been here. The time has flown by and I am afraid the rest of the year will be gone before I know it.
Several young men have come to call, but I think it is because I am new to town and I am a diversion from their ordinary rounds. Last month, Eliza's mother hosted a dinner in honor of my 22nd birthday.
One of the young men in attendance was telling of his visit to the 'wilds of western Virginia' and how trying it had been to sleep on a cot, covered with a scratchy wool blanket, and wait for his servant to cook food over an open fire. I thought of how you and Pa slept on the bare ground or in the snow, and I had to cover my face behind a napkin to hide my laughter.
It occurred to me that I have never heard you or Pa complain about going out in the winter to check traps. You seem to enjoy it. The frontier must be very different from England. Was it hard to leave? Do you ever miss living in London and attending parties and music recitals and all the other diversions? Forgive me if I am too forward in asking. I do not mean to pry.
Now that I have myself in bad graces with you, I may as well make it complete. I do not know if you want to hear of your father, but Eliza's grandmother's first cousin met us as we were on our way to the silversmith's shop today, and told us about Lord Dunsmore leaving Williamsburg last year. It seems her cousin was an aide to your father, but decided to stay in the colonies (as he still calls us) after the surrender.
Without mentioning you, I inquired as to the governor's condition when last seen and he said your father looked tired but seemed to be in good health. I have debated whether to tell you, but I would want to know about my Pa even if we were not close. Please forgive me if I have judged in error.
I shall tell you of Eliza's son Caleb to brighten this letter. He is a precious baby and is crawling about and trying to talk a bit. He fell asleep in my lap last night and I did not want to lay him in his bed, it was so wonderful just holding him. Abigail is a sweet child who loves being read to and I am happy to oblige her, although it is not the same as you and I discussing Shakespeare! I am enjoying being around her little ones very much.
With affection,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Miss Boone, August 1782
It was an unexpected pleasure to find you letter waiting for me when I returned to your parent's home. I am honored by your taking time from your busy social obligations to write me.
I am happy to hear your visit is going well and you are enjoying the cultural delights of Williamsburg. I beg to differ with you concerning the motives of the young men who come to call. The pleasure of your company is not simply a diversion, but is an event in itself.
I could never be angry with you, Kathleen. Never. Thank you for your kindness in telling me of my father's well being. Even though we do not agree on many things, he is still my father and I am grateful for the advantages he provided for me. I wish him no ill and am pleased to hear of his good health and safe passage from the city.
Kathleen, please know that you may ask me any question and I will answer it honestly.
No, it was not difficult to leave England. It was my choice and what I felt was best. As for whether or not I miss the social and cultural attractions of England, I can only say that while the gaiety of town life has its pleasures, it cannot compare to what I have found here.
There is a beauty in mist-covered mountains and valleys and first buds of spring that no artist can come close to capturing. No orchestra can compare with the songs of birds awakening at dawn or the melody of a stream coursing its way over stones. No circle of polite society can equate to the friendship I have found within your family. And, nothing served on a silver platter by liveried footmen can compare with a freshly caught trout prepared over an open camp fire- even if one must wait a while for it to cook.
I must admit, however, that I do miss having ready access to books. Until recent years, I had no one to share them with. Boonesborough most definitely needs a bookseller, particularly since it now has an excellent teacher to instill a love for the bound word in its inhabitants.
To answer your question in a different, more succinct manner, I would say that in my experience, happiness is determined by what is within one's self rather than what is without.
I remain your devoted friend,
Mingo
Dear Mingo, December 1782
The time has flown by and I cannot believe that it will soon be spring again. I received a letter from Mother and, no doubt, you already know that she and Pa are permitting me to stay until June. I am excited to have more time, but I find myself looking forward to seeing the familiar hills and streams of home. It will be a joy to see everyone again- even Israel.
I have enjoyed the past eight months immensely, and my visit has been exciting and enlightening, although there have been times when I had to stop myself from speaking my mind. I fear the sympathies of Eliza's grandmother, and perhaps her parents as well, were with England.
I am glad you were not angry with me. That would have been hard to bear if you were.
Please do not think me silly, but I must admit I have enjoyed the parties and such while here. There was a ball two weeks ago and I danced until the sky became light with dawn. It brought to mind the night we sat up all night reading by the fire. Do you remember?
No one at the ball wanted to discuss poetry or literature, but only what would be in fashion for the season or who the newest couples were. The young women and men here concern themselves with the most frivolous things.
Eliza's husband has a collection of books he inherited from his father, and I have read most of them during my stay. Her grandmother thought it strange that I would enjoy reading.
I must close, as guests will be arriving for the party Eliza's grandmother is giving to celebrate the New Year. She always invites several young men and Eliza confided that her mother and grandmother are determined to make a match for me. The young men are all handsome and quite nicely dressed but in conversation, they are shallow.
Take care, my friend.
With affection,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Miss Boone, March 1783
Please accept my good wishes on your 23rd birthday. I was recently thinking of when I first met your family. You were a girl of about 15, were you not?
I ask you to forgive the poor penmanship of this letter, as the table on which I am writing at the tavern appears to have been used rather vigorously in a recent fight. I believe its user lost.
While it is often difficult to understand another's outlook when it differs from our own, I would caution you against the mistake of being blind to the good in others because of this difference in opinion. There are few things in life not tinged with gray around the edges- little is as simple as white or black, good or bad.
There were two sides to the recent contentions between the Colonies and the Crown and I find myself in the position of having seen both sides. Even though I have my own thoughts on the matter, I can understand those who see opposite. The Crown invested a great deal of resources in establishing the colonies, but did not fully understand what occurred over the past decades, or the changes the colonists underwent into settling the land and making it their home.
Despite the fact that my parents were not of the colonies, I found myself sympathetic to those who wished to have control of what they have worked very hard to achieve. As you know, I assisted your father and others in this pursuit. However, because of my mother's people, I also find myself aware of how the colonist's gains were come by, and at whose expense. So, you see, there is often no clear right or wrong, but both with edges of gray.
I have found that very little discussion of scholarly subjects takes place at balls, Kathleen, and with such charming young ladies as you in attendance, the young men of Williamsburg must be forgiven if their attention is not on books.
I look forward to seeing you again and wish you a safe journey home.
Your obedient servant,
Mingo
Dearest Eliza, September1783
Pa and I made it to Boonesborough safely and I do not know how to express my gratitude for having me in your home during the past year. Please give your mother and grandmother the enclosed letters of thanks. It was a wonderful year and I will fondly remember our days together always.
Israel has grown taller than Mother and I! He confessed that he was to have gotten a whipping last month, but when Mother made him bend over her lap, she began to laugh and let him go.
Israel said I have changed and that I look all grown up. I am thankful for the dresses your mother ordered for me after my others became too tight. I suppose Mother and I should have allowed more in the seams for letting out than we did.
Mingo came to our cabin last night and I was very happy to see him after being away for over a year. It took a while before he said anything. I thought perhaps Mingo had forgotten what I looked like and did not recognize me, but he remembered. I suppose it was the new dress. He was quiet all evening.
He was delighted with the book I brought him and truly surprised. I think it was just as much his receiving a gift as it was the book itself. I will ask Mother if we might have a dinner for his birthday. I recall him saying he had been in the colonies for 12 years, and that was two years ago, so I believe he is about 35 or 36 years old- a few years younger than Mother.
Mingo seems older, though. Perhaps it is because he is quiet by nature, not liking to draw attention to himself. There seems to be sadness about him that I never noticed it until now, since I am older. Thinking back, it has always been there. Leaving two homes and losing both parents must surely be difficult. I do not think his life in England or in the colonies has been easy. He is often alone.
Miss Essie got married while I was visiting with you! A trader happened by her and Widow Blackburn's house, and smelled her cooking apple strudel. He walked right up to her door and asked if he might have a taste of it. She allowed him, and he came back the next time she baked another pan. Mother said Miss Essie used up nearly every apple in Boonesborough before he proposed.
He is opening a store in the settlement and will be staying here from now on. Miss Essie, or I should say Mrs. Knott, said I wasn't to worry yet, even if I am twenty three- if she could find a man, then so could I. I hope I do not have to wait until I am an ancient forty-eight years old like she!
Give my best to all,
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
Dear Eliza, November 1783
I am writing to keep my mind from fretting, so I hope this letter makes sense. Two days ago, a party of Creek Indians captured Mingo and they shot him, beat him, and then left him for dead. He has not spoken since Pa found him and brought him home to us yesterday. His eyes have not opened, either.
I am so worried about him. I do not know what I would do without him. Mingo is my dearest friend. As I watch him laboring to breathe, I cannot help but remember the times we spent together walking the trails between here and Boonesboro, talking about everything under the sun. I would give anything to be discussing Yeats or Donne with him rather than pressing cool cloths to his face and chest, trying to bring down his fever.
I must rest my eyes for a while, but later I will write more.
I awoke this morning at Mingo's side. I must have fallen asleep, and Mother did not wake me when she got up from her rest. His skin is so hot I fear the worse. Mother is worried about his breathing and that an infection might be settling in his lungs. I have said a prayer for him.
Mingo is always so strong and brave; I thought nothing could stop him. When he is around, I feel safe. He makes me laugh and feel special and there is no one I would rather be with than my friend Mingo. I could not bear to lose him.
Mother needs me to help make broth for when he wakes up, so I will close for now.
I have not written for four days and am pleased to say that Mingo is awake and he is better. He is very weak and still coughing, but his fever is down. Mother says that is a good sign. He took the broth and insisted on getting up for a while to go out in the fresh air. Mother says that his stubbornness is an even better sign. He was so weak he had to lean on Pa to walk. I sat with him on the porch and talked about everything that came to mind. After a while, we just listened to the sounds of the birds and the wind in the pine trees. I am so thankful he is recovering.
I will close on that positive thought and send this letter with Pa when he goes to town.
Love,
Jemima Kathleen
My Dear Eliza, February 1784
I was pleased to hear the Abigail and Caleb are going to have a new brother or sister this summer! I am very happy for you and Enoch. I know your mother is excited to have another grandchild. Please give little Caleb a kiss and Abigail a "bear hug" from me. You are so fortunate.
My students just left and I wanted to get a letter off to you as Jericho said he would take this letter east for me. He married a girl who moved here three months ago with her parents. Her grandfather hired Jericho to work for him, so they are moving to Roanoke. I hope they will be happy.
I am busy with teaching school to over a dozen children now and several adults who sit in on our classes when they can. Getting books is very difficult, but between the Scriptures and the books Mingo and I have, there is enough for them to practice on. I have school two or three times a week, depending on the season and crops. It keeps me busy, but not busy enough.
As Mother says, a new year has begun and along with it a new start. I am 24 years old, so must give some thought to my future. To continue living with Pa and Mother as an old maid is not something I desire, although I know they would never turn me out. I have thought about searching for a position helping take care of children as I have experience teaching, but there is little opportunity for that and I would find myself a servant in someone's home.
I am at a loss over what to do. I wish I could attend school- a real one such as college, but I know that is not available to women. I confess it seems unfair to me.
It is a hard decision to make, so I will have to give it more thought. Maybe I will simply stay here. Pa is often away and I know it must be lonely for Mother.
Often, I feel as if there is something so close to me, that if I simply reached out I could touch it and my life would change and all the hollows that lie empty in my heart would fill to overflowing.
Perhaps it is just wishful thinking. I cannot imagine what opportunities there might be for me here in Ken Tuckee. It is still a wild and, for the most part, unsettled land.
Mingo is much better. He is stronger and is well enough to have gone with Pa to set traps this winter. While he was recovering, we spent a great deal of time talking and reading to each other, and that seemed to help him bear being cooped up.
I cannot help but feel that there is something different between Mingo and me. I do not know how to describe it, but Mingo seems distant and hesitant. I have thought and thought, but cannot think of anything to account for it. Perhaps it is due to his being ill, but looking back the distance between us has been there since my return from Williamsburg.
He is always polite and friendly but his manner is reserved. At times, he will be talking to me then suddenly stop in mid-sentence as if he had been about to say something and thought better of it. He withdraws into himself when this happens or leaves for several days only to return as distant and polite as before.
I hope it is something that will pass for I wish our friendship to be close again.
He is in town to settle fur accounts and promised to walk me home this evening. He has not been around for the past week, so it will be pleasant to spend time with him.
Perhaps Mingo and I will take the Moon Trail for it is cold and the evening is clear- the stars will be beautiful.
I see my dearest friend coming so will close.
With deep affection,
Your friend,
Jemima Kathleen
