The Rood family was listed on the ships manifest along with John Andrews Spracklin. I did not notice this until I started studying the passenger list and realized that John had not immigrated by himself. I shared about the migration in the posted dated
February 18, 2013 titled: “John Andrews Spracklin – From England to Ohio 1817.”
The Rood family is listed on the manifest as: Wine Rood, Ann Rood, Pamela Rood, Wine Rood, Varoline Rood (Caroline), Ablin Rood, Matilda Rood, (a name between) John Hunt, then John Spracklin. (Updated 7/14/2013). John is probably Matilda’s husband? Another Update on 7/21/2013 I am sorry but I was going too fast when I wrote this and missed Matilda.
Dave Schneider a descendant of John Andrews Read found this blog and commented. He was very kind and shared poems given to him by distant family in Wisconsin.
There are two poems written by the children of Wine and Ann (Andrews) Rood. The first and longer one was written by Pamela Rood. The shorter one by Wine Rood (Jr.) or a Wm. Read. These poems were typed. To me it looked like it was a carbon copy because of the letters being soft, so that implies it was transcribed awhile back. The spelling is probably, if transcribed correctly, the author’s style.
When first I left Britania’s shore
And cross’d the raging deep
Supported by that mighty power
Who lulls the waves to sleep
Parents belov’d and breth’ren dear
And Sisters too had I,
With whom I did devoid of fear
Embark without a sigh.
(Handwritten comment to right of #2 – “Brothers & sisters both came with the writer from their home.)
We left belov’d and valued friends
Nor hop’d to see them more,
The western Avon to descend
And prospects new explore
(Handwritten comment to right of #3 – Probably from the Gloucester Co. See Map of England)
Bristol fine city still appeared
O! what a pleasing sight
Clifton high banks on either side
Quite filled me with delight
The tide was high, the wind was fair
And swift was our advance;
And soon on English prospects rare
We cast our final glance.
Contrary winds opposed our pace
The waves like mountains rose;
Paleness appear’d on every face
And fools expressed their woes.
Cheer up, cheer up, the Captain said
There is no room for fear,
Lower your sails the Pilot cries
For we shall anchor here.
(Handwritten comment to right of #7 – Turned back from Bristol Bay.)
The crew was called the following day
The anchor soon was drawn;
The canvas all was hoisted high
T’was fair and we went on.
Sometimes head winds, sometimes a squall
But mostly quite serene;
Sixty three day’s concluded all,
This interesting scene.
(Handwritten comment to right of #9 – Little over 2 months at sea.)
At length we reache’d our destine’d shore
And had Colombia’s soil,
Joyful to rest on land once more
Each face display’ed a smile
Around the City we did walk
Its beauty to explore
Off which we’d heard so may talk
For several years before.
(Handwritten comment to right of #11 – New York.)
Our travels were not ended yet
We had to take a tour
Across the mountains every step
Unknown to us before
(Handwritten comment to right of #12 – Appalachian & Allegheny ranges.)
If I possessed a Poets skill
I could with pleasure trace
Our Journey over every hill
Our walk from place to place.
(Handwritten comment to right of #12 – East to west across state of Pennsylvania.)
At length at Petersburg we arrived
But were not station’d there
A little ark we did provide
And then to start prepared.
Down the Ohio swift we sped
Our destiny unknown
May brotner Alban being sick
We long’d to find a home.
At Marietta we arrived
And there behold we staid
My Father dear went out to seek
Some kind Physician’s aid.
He soon returned and to with him
A filthy sottish clown
Thought I he can’t a Doctor be
His fingers look so brown
His little skill he trie’d in vain
My brother still few worse
And when the fever seized his brain
I thought my heart would burst
Three days lapsed and then he died
While we stood round his bed
Sorrow profound possessed each mind
And many a tear was shed.
For death who envy’s all our joys
And laughs at our distress
Had robb’d us of the darling Boy
In whom we were so blest.
Dumb grief prevail’d we silent stood
And view’d his lovely face
But, Oh the nobler part had fled
To Heaven its resting place.
He was interr’d the following day
A prey to noxious worms
An when I ere the thought survey
My heart with anguish burns.
In Marietta grave yard shrude
Midst sculls and coffins lies
The blooming youth whom late I view’d
With pleasure and surprise.
If with politic eloquence
I could my jumble glare
Hi merits to elucidate
I’d raise my talents rare.
But this would sound like flattery
In every strangers ear
Therefore in dark obscurity
I have my Alban Dear.
As flowers fade beneath the sun
Or wither in the frost,
An so is he for ever gone
And to my friendship lost.
Alas he is removed far
From this gay flattering scene,
Where he had prospects bright fair
Had fortunes smiled serene.
Before pale death his lips had closed
In converse sweet we join’d
Our conversation often turne’d
On scenes we’d left behind.
But yet I will not joyless sigh
Or yield to dark despair
While hope points upward to the sky
And bids me view him there.
Surrounded by a glorious throng
Free from all toil and care
He rests, but Ah, I hope ere long
Through grace to meet him there.
In Fleming Fearing Township now I live
Neighbors and Friends around
Protected by Parental care
Therefore my peace abound.
While in the slippery paths of youth
Wisdom May I pursue
And ever see the ways or truth
And keep the end in view.
The cultivation of my mind
Shall be my constant care
And if the task too hard I find
I’ll cry to God in prayer.
That he who rules in purest light
May to my rescue come
And still direct my steps aright
And bring me safely home.
How long or short my stay may be
On earth I cannot tell
But when I die I hope to see
And feel that all is well.
Composed by Pamala Rood
Original poem found in box of papers having belonged to
Frances Cecila Read Longsdorf, born 1854, Mansfield, Ohio, daughter of
John Read &
Lydia Helen Pollack.
A second poem on the back of Pamala’s is signed by Wine (or Wm.) Read.
England I now must bid adieu to thee
Thy Meadows fertile I no more shall see
May peace and plinty crown thy fertile Land
And send thee blessings with a liberal hand
May Justice aid thee and thee succor bring
And wisdom guide thee and thy virtuous King
May sound discretion bring thee shure Reforms
Protect and shield thee Land from the coming storm
Or else what trouble will thy Land endure
What grief and famine must await the poor
But hope may yet a prospect thee send
Should all thy sons each prove thur country friend.
Composed by Wine (or Wm.) Read (or Rood)
Notes: Original poem, written on back of long poem signed by Pamala Rood and dated May 1821. Pamala’s poem was definitely written after her family’s arrival in America, even though Mr. Rood/Read’s sounds as though he is just departing from England.
He writes as though he is loyal to the King of England, yet sees a need for social, and maybe political reform. He may foresee an uprising or civil war to which departed Englishmen like himself might return and help to defend the existing government.
These poems were written on pages which appear to have once been part of a composition book. Pamala’s poem infers that she was a schoolgirl at the writing (1821). Mr. Rood/Read’s poem may have been written as a school exercise, or both poems written for the writer’s gratification. They could well have been written for the writer’s gratification. They could well have been written by brother and sister sharing the same book, and could have been prepared a gift to their parents on some occasion.
The poems were found in a box of papers having belonged to Frances Cecelia Read Longsdorf, who father was John Read, born 1811. The brother Alban whose death upon arrival in Ohio is recounted by Pamala does not appear in the Family Bible of John Read and his family, although all other pertinent dates and names are written in the appropriate lines.
(Unknown writer and transcriber) .
Enjoy cousins: Rood Poems
Many thanks to Dave for sharing a very precious part of the family history of Spracklin, Andrews, Rood and Read and more. Sadly, Pamala (Pamela) did not live much longer after writing this poem. I have her death as 24 July 1823, Mound Cemetery, Washington Co., Ohio.
I believe that “Avon” refers to two rivers in England. You can almost follow their journey across Pennsylvania from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh (Petersburg) and down the Ohio river.
See post dated Dec 23, 2012 titled: ”In search of the final resting place of Solomon Goss & Olive (Scott) Goss.” In this post I do mention that the Roods are buried in Mound Cemetery in Marietta. Scroll to number 16 in the list presented in this post.
Wine Rood married Anne Andrews (sister to Elizabeth Polly Andrews Spracklin wife of Peter Spracklin, John’s father.
They married on 24 April 1797 in Somerset Co., England
Sources: Somerset: – Registers of Marriage, 1539-1812 Burialls Marriages at Pitney, 1623 to 1812. Volume 3. County: Somerset Country: England Wine Rood, b., of Street, & Ann Andrews 24 Apr 1797. Ancestry.com 2/21/06 Somerset, England: Parish and Probate Records
Pallot’s Marriage Index for England: 1780 – 1837 Record about Wine Rood. Name:Wine Rood Spouse:Ann Andrews Marriage Date:1797 Parish: Pitney has actual record at Ancestry.com.
Another post also features information about Wine Rood (Jr.) and his involvement with with John and Lydia Spracklin regarding a deed. I also share the fate of Wine Rood (Jr.) and that he left Marietta and headed for Wyandot County, Ohio. He is possibly buried in the Burkes Cemetery there. He will continue to be of interest when I write about Peter Spracklin, John’s father.
April 8, 2013 titled: ”John & Lydia Spracklin: The Land in Liberty Twp., Knox Co., Ohio 1839.”
Note: See the Archive listed on the right of this blog to find these posts by date.
Whatever the reason Pamala or Wine/Wm. wrote these poems, they are still very moving. Can you believe they are 192 years old!
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