The Home Tree: Jerusha's Journal

By Catherine Durant Voorhees

Sixteen-year-old Jerusha Shurtleff and her 18-year-old sister, Orrillia, live with their family on a prosperous farm. Unfortunately, their home is located on a contested strip of land between the Vermont border and "British North America." Like the Shurtleffs, most of the American residents are confident that the boundary dispute will be resolved in the United States' favor.

Imagine their shock and dismay when they learn in 1834 that the land has been ceded to Great Britain. All residents must either show official ownership of their properties or repurchase them from the British crown. Jerusha 's family can do neither, so they are evicted from the only home they have ever known. Jerusha and Orrillia face many challenges: they are separated from their family and forced to work in a textile mill where their faith and courage are tested by long hours and perilous conditions. Worse, they do not hear from their father for over a year and presume him dead.

Join Jerusha and Orrillia as they embark on their brave quest to reunite with their family, a trek that takes them across America at the dawn of its Industrial Age.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468554106

Book preview

The Home Tree 

Introduction: No Man’s Land

In the 1800s a debate raged for many years over a small strip of land located between Vermont in the United States and what is now the province of Quebec in Canada. The great attraction to this area was the fertile farmland. The David Shurtleff family and many others migrated from the rocky, difficult-to-farm soil of New England to this beautiful site in the early 1800s. These settlers knew life would be easier there and believed the township of Stanstead would eventually be awarded to the United States.

David Shurtleff bought his property from a land agent in what was known as No Man’s Land. David was an American veteran of the War of 1812 and confident that, once the international boundary dispute was resolved, he would be working American soil. Unfortunately for Shurtleff, his land agent was, at the very least, disorganized, and possibly dishonest. The land agent told Shurtleff he had title to the property. Being a man of honor, Shurtleff assumed that the deed was properly recorded.

The Shurtleff family successfully farmed in Stanstead for more than twenty years. During that time David and his wife, Ruth Knapp, had eight children. Although the Shurtleffs were a large family, they never had a problem remembering birthdates as they were carved onto the bark of an old beech tree in their yard. The family called this tree The Home Tree. The carving on the tree looked like this:

David Shurtleff and Ruth Knapp, 1816

Orrillia—March 21, 1817

Jerusha—December 3, 1818

Mary—December 17, 1820

David—March 19, 1823

Albert—August 25, 1824

Laura—January 3, 1826

Alfred—October 14, 1827

Giles—September 8, 1831

David and Ruth’s last child, Ephraim, was born in 1835, after this story begins. David’s second oldest daughter, Jerusha, began keeping the following diary at the age of sixteen:

July 10, 1834

Dear Diary,

This morning a rider in bright red military uniform approached our house. All of us were curious as to his purpose. We watched as Pa met him at the door and was required to sign that he had received a letter. I happened to be standing close to Pa and I could see that the letter was sealed with a wax impression of the coat of arms of King William IV of England. Pa cracked the seal and opened the letter. As he read, I watched his knuckles tighten on the paper and his face turn ashen. He looked around at all of us. I asked: Pa, what is it? Is something wrong? He said: Where’s your mother? My sister, Mary, said: She’s out in the hen house." Pa raced out of the house. In his haste, he dropped the letter. I picked the letter up and read it and then put it in my apron pocket. Diary dear, the contents were so shocking that they are seared into my mind and memory forever. I can repeat the letter here word for word:

Office of the Solicitor for Stanstead Township

July 5, 1834

Dear Sir:

This letter is to inform you that as of July first in the Year of Our Lord 1834, the township of Stanstead has been ceded to His Majesty King William IV of Great Britain. All property owners are required to submit to the Township Solicitor a copy of the deed to their land by the fifteenth day of August, 1834. If said deed is not produced, the person occupying the land will be required to pay to the King’s Exchequer the current value of the land or else vacate the premises by October first, 1834.

Most Sincerely Yours,

Heatley Witherspoon

Solicitor General,

Stanstead Township,

British North America

My brothers and sisters were all clamoring around me and begging me to tell them what the letter said. I wracked my brain to think of something I could say that wouldn’t worry them. I told them it was some sort of government business and I asked Orrillia to take the children outside. Ma and Pa returned from the henhouse and I handed Pa the letter. He led Ma into the parlor and gave her the letter to read.

Later today I found Ma in the kitchen. I asked her what this letter means for us. She said that we will now be subjects of the British crown. Pa is very upset about the redrawing of the boundary. Since he fought against the British in the War of 1812, he feels that if we continue to live here, there will be prejudice against him for fighting on the side of the United States.

I then asked the question that was really troubling me: Does that mean we will have to move?

Ma said that we will have to find a copy of our deed in the next few weeks. It’s been twenty years since Pa bought the farm and he doesn’t remember where the deed is or even if we have a copy of our own. We need to find it so we can prove that we own the property and then we can sell it and find another farm nearby, on United States soil.

I was trying to control my feelings but I think Ma must have detected my dismay. She offered: Perhaps we can find a farm in Vermont right on the other side of Lake Memphremagog, near where Grandma and Grandpa Knapp live. That did make me feel better. Every winter we cross the frozen lake in our sleigh and spend Christmas with our favorite grandparents. If we moved there, we wouldn’t be far from this beautiful area where I’ve spent my entire life and where I feel so comfortable. After talking with Ma, my anxieties were relieved enough that I was able to go back to my chores.

Tonight after supper, Pa asked all of us to gather in the parlor. He explained to the rest of the family what the letter said. Ma and Pa told us we will all have to work together to find the copy of our deed. Everyone seemed eager to help. Pa suggested we start looking through our house, but he said he’s sure there must be a copy at the township building. He is going to ask our Uncle David, the judge, to come here from Massachusetts and help him sift through all the records.

Love,

Jerusha

July 20, 1834

Dear Diary,

Pa came home from town late this morning and explained that he and Uncle David had been unsuccessful at finding the deed in the records at the courthouse. He then disappeared into the barn and was out there for what seemed like hours. Ma sent me to call him to dinner.

When I entered the barn, I heard the strangest sound. I followed it to an empty stall, and there I found my father frantically going through his old army trunk from the War of 1812. He was tossing things all over the stall. He must have been hoping to find the deed in his trunk. I noticed his dark blue uniform and black hat with white cording and tall white plume just lying on the floor. As I stood there watching, I could picture how handsome he must have looked in that uniform, even though it was now very worn looking. I heard him digging out more things and I had to back up to avoid being hit by what he was tossing out of the trunk: a black cartridge box, a white haversack and a canteen.

I then heard the sound which had led me to the stall in the first place and I realized that it was my father sobbing! Diary, I was so shocked-I’ve never heard my father cry before. I didn’t know what to do, so I edged my way out of the barn as quietly as I could. I told Ma what I had found and she dropped what she was doing in the kitchen and ran out there.

After about half an hour, Ma and Pa came back to the house and told us to come to the dinner table. We ate in silence. The only comments were Please pass the bread and Albert, don’t chew so loudly. I was the only one besides Ma who knew how upset Pa was. I felt sick to my stomach and really didn’t want any food. I hoped no one noticed that I just pushed the food around on my plate.

After dinner, I went up to my room and knelt by my bedside and prayed to God. Diary, I didn’t just pray, I begged God to help us find our deed in the time we have left to produce it. I promised God I would do anything to help my parents. I promised Him I’d be a better sister to my younger siblings, if He would just save our farm.

Afterwards, as I was looking out the window at our acres and acres of planted crops, I had an idea that I thought would help us even if we couldn’t find the deed. I found Ma, looking through some cupboards. I said it was unfair that some politicians decided to redraw the boundaries right in the middle of the summer growing season. I told her that if we can’t find the deed, I thought we should borrow the money to repurchase our farm from Grandpa and Grandma Knapp or Grandpa Shurtleff. Then we could stay on our property long enough to bring in the crops, and from that money we could reimburse our grandparents and be able to save our farm.

Ma said, Jerusha, dear, that’s a lot of money. What makes you think your grandparents have it? They have their own farms to run. Besides, your father has always been independent, so I don’t think he could bear to ask his parents or mine for such a large sum of money. Then she said, I appreciate your concern, but we must trust that the Lord will provide for us in the long run. She quoted verses from Matthew, chapter 6 which I had memorized in Sunday School when I was younger. The words are very familiar to me:

Therefore, I say unto you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink: nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on… Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? . . . for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.

Diary, I guess I need to take these verses more to heart. I’ m going to ask God to help me with this.

Love,

Jerusha

August 15, 1834

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry I haven’t