Pioneer Story Page 3

Like the wild creatures, Robert needed virgin forest, free of the competition of neighbors, to provide for his family. The few pieces of silver he earned each year were payment for essentials like lead and gunpowder. If a few copper pennies remained, he bought a little sugar, coffee or tea. Everything else he and his family needed, they planted, harvested, foraged, shot or made.

Fincastle,Virginia, was an untamed wilderness when Robert was a youngster. Now, more and more families poured into the area. The growing population cut down the forest, built fences, planted crops and scared off the game. Each year, Robert traveled farther from home to trap and hunt.

Burning the past

During the winter and spring, the family prepared for their move. There was no road to their new home. No bridges spanned the scores of rivers and streams they'd cross. Few settlements, trading posts or farms dotted the landscape beyond the Allegheny Mountains. They would struggle through rugged, hilly country, cross lush, green meadows and penetrate vast areas of thick forest to reach their new home. Traveling would be difficult. Their highways would be game trails, meandering river banks, valley meadows and mountain ridges. Their map was Robert's memory of distinctive rocks, broken trees and other natural features.

He had made mental notes of these road signs during his trip. He dared not blaze a trail. He was an intruder in lands the Cherokee and other tribes considered their exclusive hunting ground. Any signs of his passing would surely lead a band of angry men to his new home. If that happened, his dream of a new life would be torched and his family roughly treated as trespassers. The Franklin family would have to travel secretively, quickly, and lightly. In their wagon, they would carry the barest essentials needed to live and build their cabin.

During the cold, rainy spring of 1794, the Franklin’s sold, bartered or gave away their livestock and most of their possessions. Great Grandma's china plates, and a few other heirlooms, were entrusted with relatives. Hopefully, they would be reclaimed someday.

Once emptied, the Franklin family burned the cabin they called home to the ground. Only by burning down the old cabin could Robert and his sons recycle the valuable, hand-made nails. The family would re-use these nails in the construction of their new home.

The family started their journey on a damp, sullen March 1. As they crested the first hill, they briefly looked back at the valley. In the first light of dawn, they could see the cut-stone chimney, all that remained of their former home. Robert knew it, too, would soon disappear. He had given the stone to the Sawyer family. They would recycle it into the foundation of a new barn.