Portraits of Jacob Robbins (1809-1896)

May 12, 2023 / robbinsroots / Leave a comment

Of all the grandchildren of Jacob and Mary Robbins of Kentucky, the third generation, the one individual who seems to have had the most photographs taken, is Jacob Robbins (1809-1896). This was the Jacob who married Sarah Spilman and emigrated with his family to Oregon in 1852 along with his cousin Nathaniel Robbins and his family.

That multiple photographs of Jacob were taken is a testament to his long life as he lived until 1896, long after photography became common place. His wife Sarah, on the other hand, died in 1865 and only one known photograph of her exists, as also occurs with his cousin Nathaniel Robbins, who died in 1863.

Here is a summary of the six photos or drawings I have of Jacob and Sarah Robbins and who originally shared the photos with me (all three contributors have since passed on).

**Jacob and Sarah (Spilman) Robbins (*Margaret Davis, Yakima, WA*)**

**Jacob Robbins (*Margaret Davis, Yakima, WA*)**

**Jacob Robbins (*Patrick Masterson, Port Orford, OR*)**

**Jacob Robbins (*Lloyd Robbins, Vancouver, WA*)**

**Jacob Robbins (*Patrick Masterson, Port Orford, WA*)**

If anyone has additional photos of Jacob and Sarah Robbins, or of anyone from that generation – children of William Sr., Absalom, James, Jacob Jr., Mary Chastain, Martha Chastain, and Margaret Robbins, I’m always happy to get a scanned copy!

[Jacob Robbins-Jacob Robbins-Jacob Robbins]

John Hudson Robbins: Oregon Pioneer of 1862

January 31, 2020 / robbinsroots / Leave a comment

PART 1

This is the first of two posts about the life of John Hudson Robbins (1833-1912), a native of Decatur County, Indiana, who moved as a child to Missouri and Iowa, from where he set off for Oregon in 1862. The second post will discuss John’s varied life once he arrived in the Pacific Northwest.

Born in 1833, John Hudson Robbins was the son of John and Eda (Sanders) Robbins, and a grandson of Absalom and Mary (Ogle) Robbins. John and Eda had twelve children (John Hudson was number eight), who were born between 1819 and 1843, and from Henry County, Kentucky, to Monroe County, Missouri.

John Hudson Robbins was in Davis County, Iowa, at least by 1850, where he is recorded in the federal census. His mother died soon after, in 1854, and his father, John Robbins, followed not long after in 1857, leaving John Hudson without parents by the time he was 24 years old. Most of his siblings also lived in Davis County, though several stayed in Missouri and there was quite a lot of travel back and forth between the two areas. John’s oldest brother, Marquis Lindsay Robbins, emigrated to Oregon in 1853. John and his family were to follow in 1862, while two younger brothers Moses Riley Robbins and Samuel Robbins were to follow in 1865.

In 1854 John was married to Hester Elizabeth Minnick and the couple had three children prior to making the trip to Oregon. At the time of the trek, John and Hester’s children were Sarah Jane (age 7), Emma (age 3), and Benjamin Franklin (age 1½). Hester was expecting her fourth children when they left Iowa. In preparation for the trip, the Robbins’s grafted apple and cherry tree stock and visited relatives for the last time.

John Hudson Robbins

The details of the 1862 trip were recorded by William Chambers (elected as captain of the wagon train) in a journal, later give to John ‘s son William Arthur Robbins, who copied and edited parts of it. Robbins descendant Marjory Cole generously provided a typescript copy of this journal to me many years ago. It is important to remember that the journal has gone through some editing and may not reflect Chambers daily entries exactly as he wrote them.

The party left Floris, Davis County, Iowa, on April 14, 1862 and intercepted the Oregon Trail near Kirkville, Missouri. Their first days out were not easy. Within one week John had replaced his lame cow for an iron gray pony called “Lightening.” Encountering the flooding Medicine Creek (in Missouri) on April 28, the emigrants had some difficulty in crossing that stream. It was only after considerable effort were they able to get the wagons and stock across the creek. Two days and 38 miles of further rough riding induced the journal author to write: “Never again will I laugh at my grandmother for sitting on a pillow.”

Crossing across Missouri river

On May 3 they encountered “two miles of canvas covered wagons slowly moving like soldiers going to war.” The Robbins and Chambers party attempted to pass the other wagon trains but failed, leaving three lengthy caravans in front of them. It had been decided to bypass St. Joseph but they had to take on more supplies and repair the wagons, so they camped about three miles out of town. In town, all the men bought “six-shooters” as they were warned about the Indians they would meet on the trail west.

After stocking up on supplies the party headed west on the Oregon Trail. By May 18 they had reached the Big Blue River in Nebraska – probably not far from where their Robbins cousins had died ten years before. In fact, they passed a number of graves in this area and several of the company were ill with what they called “plains cholera.”

Capt. Chambers wrote on May 27:

Last night we had a dance in the new covered bridge across the Little Blue River. John Robbins played the violin and called the dances. About midnight a party of eight men on horseback demanded that we vacate the bridge so the could cross. After crossing, they came back and dance with us until daylight.

The emigrants stopped at Ft. Kearney to inquire about Indian conditions on the trail and the following day they crossed the Platte River with surprisingly little difficulty, having been warned of the quicksand that had caught emigrants before. On June 12 they passed the famous Chimney Rock and Court House Rock, but the following day they had to remain in camp due to dysentery among the emigrants. The doctor in the caravan (Dr. Thomas A. McBride) treated them with “burnt flour.”

The Robbins and Chambers families arrived in Ft. Laramie on June 18. There they again restocked their supplies (and camped northwest of the famous fort. Crossing the North Platte River on June 27, the pioneers lost two calves and a horse in the swift water. The river was too deep to ford so everything had to be ferried across. Once across the river and onto the high, dry country of Wyoming, they encountered poison water again and had difficulty keeping the cattle and horses from drinking it.

On Sunday, June 29, the party reached Independence Rock, where they read the names of previous emigrants scratched and cut into the surface and undoubtedly added their own. A few days later (July 3) the party came upon a small settlement where the people had gathered to celebrate Independence Day. On the 4th Dr. McBride read the Declaration of Independence, Capt. Chambers delivered the oration, and John Robbins sang and led the choir. French traders roasted a steer in an open pit which provided the dinner. It was learned that the steer had been stolen from a previous wagon train. After all the wrestling, pistol and rifle contest, and all the eating was finished, they went to a nearby house and danced until daylight. John Robbins was head fiddler and caller.

Camp on the Oregon Trail

In the following weeks the emigrants were plagued by Indians. On July 7, Shoshone Indians visited the evening campsite wishing to trade horses, gamble, beg and steal. Two days later the party camped near a trading post, where the Indians tried every means they could to obtain alcohol, even offering to trade their wives or children.

After years of hard use the Oregon Trail was marked by deep ruts which the wagons would frequently get stuck in. Hot and thirsty, the cattle frequently gave out in the arid lands of Wyoming and Idaho. Steep hills were another problem. In descending a steep ridge called the “Devil’s Backbone,” it was necessary to lock the wagon’s wheels and everyone had to walk down, with the exception of the driver. At the bottom of the “Devil’s Backbone” the party came across five fresh graves of a family that had been killed in a runaway wagon the month before.

On July 15, the Chambers-Robbins party had some excitement in the trial of Dixie Johnson. As written in the Chambers journal, Dixie Johnson was a miner returning from California.

The previous night the California party enticed a number of Shoshone squaws into their camp and after they had imbibed a large amount of fire water, Dixie Johnson engaged in a quarrel with another member of the party, claiming that he was attempting to steal Johnson’s squaw. As a result of the argument, Johnson stabbed and killed the other member of the party. A jury was impaneled and Johnson was tried and found guilty of murder. The volunteer judge sentenced Johnson to be shot by one member of the jury. Each of the six jurors was given a rifle, only one of which was loaded, the five other guns containing blanks. The murderer was then taken over a hill beyond the camp, stood up against a tree, and the six men pointed their guns at his heart and fired. Johnson refused to be blindfolded or tied and smiled at his executioners and gave the order to fire. He was buried under the tree with a headboard stating ‘Here lies Dixie Johnson, murderer, who died July 15, 1862.

Upon reaching the Portneuf River the party was disheartened to find that they were short of funds to pay for a ferry crossing. For a plug of tobacco, however, they were able to get a trapper to lead them to an easy fording place. A couple of days later they arrived at Fort Hall, which was not in the condition they expected. The buildings were quite shabby and traders ran the fort, serving the passing trappers, Indians, and emigrants.

On July 29 they reached a campsite on the Snake River where they had been told they could catch salmon.

They limbered up their fishing tackle, and soon succeeded in catching a large supply of salmon which were making their way from the Pacific Ocean to the headwaters of the Snake River to spawn. The salmon were badly bruised by jumping over falls and riffles in the lower snake River and were really unfit for human consumption. The party had been living for many days off of side meat and were very anxious to secure fresh meat to replenish their depleted larders. They ate an excess of salmon, which made many members of the party ill…

Other hazards awaited the party. On August 21 one of the oxen died after being bitten by a rattlesnake. That night most of the emigrants slept in the wagons and not on the ground as they usually did. The trail they were following alongside the Snake River was narrow; occasionally cattle or horses would slip off the narrow trail to their death. Once, a wagon train almost tipped over, lodging against a rock. Three hours later, the men were finally able to pull it upright.

On September 12 tragedy struck. Hester Robbins, wife of John, died after giving birth to a still-born daughter. Hester had been sick since July 29 with salmon poisoning. Hester and her daughter were buried in a wagon box on a “knoll overlooking the Powder River Valley.” The grave was marked by a stone cairn and wooden head board. At the same time this terrible event occurred, John Robbins’ last team of oxen died.

Part of the wagon train decided to remain in the Powder River valley while John Robbins was able to obtain a team of oxen to help carry him through to the Willamette Valley. He and his small children started out once again on September 17th.

On Sunday, September 21, the party caught up with three of the preceding wagon trains in the Blue Mountains, where they were preparing to hold church services. As the journal author wrote:

John Robbins was asked to lead the choir, but declined, saying that he felt that he could never sing again. Dr. Withers, a Campbellite minister, told of the death of Hester Robbins and infant daughter, and preached a sermon dealing with the passing of the pioneer mother and baby. At the conclusion of the services, there was not a dry eye in the party.

After descending the Blue Mountains into the Umatilla country, the wagon train followed the south bank of the Columbia River to The Dalles. John Robbins and his children took the river route to Portland, arriving in that city in late September. It is likely that he was met by his brother Lindsay Robbins or perhaps some of the other Robbins cousins in the Willamette Valley. And there, in the Pacific Northwest, began part two of John Hudson Robbins’ life.

(Jacob Robbins-Absalom Robbins-John Robbins-John Hudson Robbins)

Robert Bird Pioneer Cemetery Marker Dedication

October 29, 2019 / robbinsroots / 1 Comment

On September 14^th of this year, the Tualatin Chapter of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution (NSDAR) dedicated a marker in the historic Robert Bird Cemetery outside Wilsonville, Oregon.

DAR marker placed 14 September 2019

The marker notes it is placed “in memory of the early Oregon pioneers buried here” and specifically calls out pioneers Robert Bird, for whom the cemetery is named (he provided the land for the cemetery), and Nathaniel Robbins, “signatory of the Oregon State Constitution ratified in 1857.” It might also be noted that several Robbins married Birds!

Barbara Stinger, descendant of Nathaniel Robbins, tells the story of the Robbins trip west

Barbara Stinger, great-great-great-granddaughter of Nathaniel Robbins, spoke at the dedication and read portions of a letter that Nathaniel Robbins’ son, William Franklin Robbins, wrote to and was published in The Decatur Press (Greensburg, Indiana) on the 2^nd and 9^th of September 1853. One of the excerpts from William’s letter included this statement: “I have only one thing to regret in coming to this country, that is the loss of my poor children, and relations; I will say to you as William Herren [first cousin, son of Dosha (Robbins) Herren] said to me, the country is good enough, the great trouble is in getting to it.”

Grave of Nathaniel Robbins in the Robert Bird Cemetery

While the Oregon Trail proved deadly for some of the family, most of the Robbins and Herren pioneers (seven related Robbins families emigrated to Oregon between 1845 and 1865) went on to lead productive lives in their new home, over 2,300 miles from Indiana.

It was an honor to attend this marker dedication, the first formal recognition, I believe, for Nathaniel Robbins, pioneer of 1852 and delegate to Oregon’s Constitutional Convention of 1857.

[Jacob Robbins-William Robbins-Nathaniel Robbins]

Levi Robbins of Molalla

July 30, 2019 / robbinsroots / 2 Comments

Levi Robbins, the second eldest child of Jacob and Sarah (Spilman) Robbins, was the only one of his siblings not to spend time in eastern Oregon and he was only one to stay clean-shaven! Levi never grew a beard like his father and brothers.

He was born in 1835 in Decatur County, Indiana, joining his older brother Harvey in the small but growing family of Jacob Robbins. Jacob had come to Decatur County, Indiana, as a boy, working first for his cousin Nathaniel and then becoming a successful farmer in his own right and a prominent hog raiser, so much so that he was sometimes called “Hog Jake.” He and Sarah would go on to have ten children, the last child being born in Oregon.

Levi and Harvey Robbins (c1858)

The family crossed the plains to Oregon in 1852 when Levi was seventeen years old. A couple of stories have come down to us about Levi’s experiences on the Oregon Trail. He was involved in the famous stampede of the Robbins wagon train on June 6^th, 1852. His brother Harvey later recounted the story:

Some of the young folks were riding and driving some of the loose stock, some of which had bells on. When they got way behind the train and thinking to catch up, they began cracking their whips and whooping and hurrying their horses. The cattle got the spirit of the race and away they sped, right into the train of 17 wagons. Levi drove the family wagon all of the way and he, being the first to catch the warning, yelled, ‘Whoa Buck and Brandy!’ and they, being prompt to obey, set themselves so suddenly that the wheels ran into them with such force that Levi, the most trusted and careful of Pappy’s drivers, had to go over the top. Mr. John Hamilton, thinking he would help Levi, reached back over his wagon and cracked his whip in their faces, at the same time losing control of his own team and away they all went in every direction, 17 covered wagons, all heavily laden with four and five yoke of steers to each. One partnership wagon full of provisions and Mr. Hamilton’s wagon wheels struck together with such force that all of the spokes were broken out of one wheel and they had to make a cart out of the wagon. One little girl said, as their wagon came to halt, ‘Mama! Didn’t we have a nice ride!’

Levi also went buffalo hunting with hired cattle driver and diarist John Lewis and they were able to shoot one only to return to the camp and find that two others were shot closer.

The family arrived in the Willamette Valley in very poor condition. They were met by their cousin William Jackson Herren, son of Dosha (Robbins) Herren, who brought the hungry emigrants down to Salem. There the family lived for several years before their move back north to Molalla.

While still near Salem, Harvey and Levi bought a farm together, raising apples and grain for the markets. When Harvey enlisted in the Oregon militia to take part in the Indian wars, his brother Levi was left to look after their cattle. Levi was also required to ride to their second farm in Linn County to feed the stock.

Levi and Ediff Robbins c1859

In 1857 Levi and Harvey had purchased 480 acres and then in 1860 divided it between them. Levi traded his share for 475 acres on the Upper Molalla near his father’s land claim at Molalla and moved his wife Ediff, whom he married in 1859, and their first child there in the fall of 1861. Levi and Ediff remained there for the rest of their lives. After Oliver Willard, they had seven more children after settling at Molalla: Lyda Nettie, Ipha (noted as a family historian), Sarah Martha, Mary Linnie, Della, Levi Wayne, and Everman.

The 1880 U.S. census gives a glimpse of the farm of Levi and Ediff Robbins. They are listed as owning 100 improved acres and 472 acres in pasture or orchards. They owned 4 horses, 7 milk cows, 20 other cattle, 9 swine, 62 sheep, and 28 barnyard poultry. Their farm produced 10 tons of hay, 600 pounds of butter, 1050 bushels of oats, 650 bushels of wheat, 125 bushels of Irish potatoes, and 100 bushels of apples. The estimated cash value of the farm that year was $10,000.

In 1890, Levi and his son Willard bought the general store (Robbins & Son) with the stock of $6,000 worth of goods at Four Corners. In 1905 Levi turned the store over to his sons to run.

Robbins brothers: Oliver, Martin, Levi, and Harvey

Levi died in 1921 at the age of eighty-six while getting some wood from his yard. Just shortly before his death he had been repairing the fences on his farm that were damaged from flood water. Ediff died in November of 1933 at the age of ninety-one.

(Jacob Robbins-Jacob Robbins II-Jacob Robbins III-Levi Robbins)

Nathaniel Norval Robbins (1832-1926)

October 23, 2018 / robbinsroots / Leave a comment

Nathaniel Norval Robbins, usually called Norval but sometimes listed as N. N. or Nathaniel, was the youngest son of Dr. Nathaniel and Nancy Robbins, and was an Oregon Trail pioneer in 1852. Born in 1832 he started out on the trail as a teenager and upon arrival in Oregon City had just turned twenty years of age. He became one of the longest lived of all the pioneers.

His name comes up several times in the reminiscences and stories of the wagon train trek. The most entertaining, though somewhat fictional, was the story Destination Oregon written by his niece Kate (Sharp) Jones. Kate began her story with a reimagining of the Robbins family at breakfast during their last day in Decatur County. Here is an excerpt:

Early one morning in October, 1851, the family of Dr. Nathaniel and Nancy Robbins was seated around the breakfast table. It was to be the last meal in the comfortable big kitchen of their Indiana home. For on this day they were leaving it — leaving to join the great westward migration that was slowly wending its way over mountains, plains, and deserts toward the land of great promise, the Oregon Country, where they hoped to establish new farms and homes that might in time prove to be more prosperous and comfortable than the ones they were leaving behind.

A hearty meal had been prepared that morning by Zobeda and Nancy, the two younger daughters, a good old Hoosier family breakfast of griddle cakes made with buckwheat, honey fresh from the hives, sweet potatoes, and homemade sausage. Jane, the third daughter of the family, hovered around the table filling the heavy mugs with fresh sweet milk and urging them all to eat a good breakfast.

Norval, 17 years old and the youngest boy, ate only a few mouthfuls, then pushed back his chair and left the table. Taking his hat from a peg by the door, he danced a few steps around the kitchen, whistling a gay tune. “Don’t forget to bring my fiddle,” he called to the girls as he scooted through the door.

“What is Norval so excited about?” Mrs. Robbins asked, eyeing her husband suspiciously.

“I didn’t notice that he was unusually excited,” he answered her, “probably in a hurry to get his cattle yoked up.”

“Do you mean to say you have given that boy permission to drive a team of oxen all the way across the plains?” she asked looking worried.

“I mean to say he is going to make the attempt and I think he will succeed very well. Why, he has been breaking in oxen since he was 15 years old. Don’t worry about Norval, he will be a full fledged bull whacker by the time we cross the great mountains,” he answered, laughing at her concerns.

Oxen Norval next appears in the stories as causing the wagon train to slow or stop due to illness not long after the family left their wintering place in Missouri. His oldest brother, William Franklin Robbins, later wrote a long story that was published in the Decatur Press the following year: “We started from Randolph county, Missouri, the 15th day of April last, (1852.) Brother Norval was sick, and we had to lay by with him, one place or another, near two weeks, before we reached the Missouri river.” This was supported by cattle drive John N. Lewis’ diary entries which recorded on April 20^th of that year “this day we laid in camp on the account of Norvel Robbins being sick” and on the following day “his day we crost a very broken part of the country far about 7 m. and put up on the acount of Norvel being sick…”

All of the accounts tell the story of a cattle stampede that occurred causing some of the wagons to overturn. Kate (Sharp) Jones reported a recovered Norval whose experience with oxen came in handy.

After a few days of travel the cattle were becoming more and more restless and hard to control. At last the leaders, a pair of sleek young steers, raised their heads, sniffed a few breaths of the cool, damp air and made a run for it. The others quickly followed. Many of the wagons were overturned, some on their sides and some bottom side up. The one in which Zobeda was riding with the two little orphaned boys, Norval and William Barnes, was one that turned completely over. They escaped, however, with only a few minor scratches and bruises. It was during the stampede that 17-year-old Norval proved his manhood. He ran in front of his cattle, whipped and lashed their heads and held them until they quieted down. His was the only team that was held back.

Kate also reported that both her uncles Norval and James were fiddle players and somewhere near the continental divide put on a concert: “One night when they made camp near the summit, the sky was so clear the stars and moon seemed close at hand. Norval and James brought out their fiddles. ‘We are going to serenade the moon and stars,’ they said, ‘we will probably never be any nearer to them.’” He was probably one of the several young members of the wagon train who inscribed their names on Chimney Rock, which they rode and walked out to after the wagons camped for the night by the Platte River.

Norval and Permelia (Bird) Robbins

After the family arrived in Oregon, Norval took out a Donation Land Claim near other family members in the Stafford area, north and east of present-day Wilsonville. There he met and married Permelia Bird, a member of another pioneer family: she was the granddaughter of Robert Bird, the namesake for the Bird cemetery where many of the Robbins family are buried. The were married in the winter of 1858 and again Kate (Sharp) Jones has the story: “It was the coldest day they had seen in Oregon and Benjamin Athey, one of the wedding guests, remarked that he thought the Robbins and Birds were mating out of season, since the guests nearly froze on their way to the wedding.”

On October 15, 1855, Norval Robbins enlisted as a private in Samuel Stafford’s Company in the 1st Regiment of Oregon Mounted Volunteers. In his enlistment papers he was described as being six feet tall, with dark hair, hazel eyes, and light complexion. His occupation was given as farmer. Norval was sent to the Simcoe Valley in south central Washington where the Yakima Indian war was beginning. Years later in Norval’s pension application, a friend named Caspar Hinkle stated that Norval “received a wound or hurt of some character and was sent by the sergeant with me to Oregon City.” Norval saw little action, therefore, as he took sick on 22 November, a little more than a month after enlisting. He never missed a reunion of the Indian War veterans however!

Norval and Permelia had five children, of whom four lived to adulthood. The oldest son was named Oren Decatur Robbins, in honor of his father’s birthplace. Next came Absalom Allen Robbins, named after a grandfather; little Absalom died at just under one year of age. Next in the family was Laura Leanna Robbins, then Christopher Carll Robbins, and finally Rufus Merritt Robbins. Oren, Laura, and Chris were married but only the latter two had children. Rufus died at the age of nineteen. You will note similarities between the names of Robbins family members in Oregon with those back in Indiana; the family carried their naming patterns with them.

After living in the Stafford area until 1877, Norval and his family moved to eastern Oregon and were said to have settled about thirty-five miles east of Canyon City. When the Snakes, Bannocks, and other local Indians began attacking settlers Norval removed his family from area. They sought refuge at Heppner (perhaps with their Herren cousins?), and then returned to western Oregon for good. In 1880 they settled in Logan east of Oregon City.

Norval and Permelia (Bird) Robbins

In 1899, the following “personal mention” appeared in the Oregon City Enterprise:

“N. N. Robbins, janitor at the Barclay school had his leg broken on July 4^th. He attended the celebration at Logan and during the day his horse got loose and in attempting to catch him Mr. Robbins was kicked on the leg with the above result.”

I have some notes compiled by Robbins family historian Margaret Davis who was able to interview Kate (Sharp) Jones, as well as Lulu (Kirchem) Ward and Irene (Kirchem) Doust, granddaughters of Norval, in the 1960s. Among the stories are the following, which provide a small flavor of the man.

Norval was a great practical joker, but like many practical jokers he couldn’t take a joke on himself. He loved to tease his grandsons. One day two of his grandsons tied a crow in a tree and ran yelling in the house for grandpa to get his gun. Norval came running and shot the bird. When it didn’t fall from the tree he realized he had been part of a ‘joke’, but he didn’t think it was very funny.

Another time he had been having trouble with animals getting his chickens. Hearing a ruckus one day he went running to the chicken coop, where by the noise coming from the coop he realized that the animal was still inside. Permelia had followed him and kept yelling at him not to get near as she was sure it wasn’t a weasel but a skunk, but, Norval was down on his stomach reaching into the hole to pull the animal out. It was a very sad Norval a few minutes later when he found to his regret that it wasn’t a weasel but a very potent skunk.

Norval Robbins, the tough pioneer that he was, died on Christmas Eve 1926 at the age of 94, while his steadfast wife Permelia lived until 1932, dying at the age of 93. Both are buried in the cemetery named for her grandfather, the Robert Bird Cemetery.

(Jacob Robbins-William/Absalom Robbins-Nathaniel/Nancy Robbins-Nathaniel Norval Robbins)

James Anderson Robbins: Doctor and Coroner

June 15, 2018 / robbinsroots / 1 Comment

According to a family history written by his niece, 19-year-old James Anderson Robbins met his future wife Minerva Elizabeth Hamilton at a Methodist camp meeting in Decatur County, Indiana. Camp meetings, which were as much social as religious gatherings, were attended by hundreds of people from all around. Both the Robbins and Hamilton families were prominent in the county so it may be that James and Minerva were aware of each other before the recording meeting, but Kate (Sharp) Jones wrote down what Minerva told her in later years:

He was riding around on a big grey horse with a watermelon under his arm. Riding up to a table set underneath the sycamore trees he laid the melon on it and proceeded to carve it. ‘Now all you girls,’ he said, ‘range yourselves around this table and you will get a slice of the best watermelon raised this year in Decatur Co. I know because I raised it myself. And remember the prettiest girl gets the biggest slice of melon.’ I knew I wasn’t the prettiest girl there, but I did get the biggest slice of that melon. From that day on I saw Jim Robbins most every Sunday afternoon.

Minerva and James Robbins, with daughter

The two were married in 1845 in Decatur County and before leaving for Oregon in the fall of 1851 they were the parents of three children, Sarah Catherine (“Cassie”), Nancy Jane, and Alfred Newland Robbins, though Alfred died in infancy before the family left Indiana. Interestingly a grandson of James was named Alfred Newlin Robbins so it’s possible that the middle name of “Newland” for the first Alfred has been passed down incorrectly in the family. Minerva’s brother John Henry Hamilton was married to James’ sister Mary Jane Robbins in 1848. Both Minerva and John were children of James and Judy (Owen) Hamilton of Decatur County.

One of the few mentions of Indians during the family’s Oregon Trail trip involved daughter Nancy Jane. A Wasco County, Oregon, historian later told this story about the event:

Mrs. Murray [Nancy Jane Robbins] remembers, too, that there were many Indians always about and that one of the natives was determined to buy her. He offered her father [James Robbins] six ponies for her and followed the train of emigrants for a half day pressing the purchase. Finally her father seized a long whip and whipped the Indian so severely that he went away. Her grandfather, an old gray haired man [Nathaniel Robbins], came and said to her father: “Why did you do that? Now they will come tonight and massacre us all.” The Indians did come that night in war trappings, but the party was able to pacify them with gifts from their supplies, so that no trouble was experienced.

Kate (Sharp) Jones also told the story that when the Robbinses were trying to ford the South Platte River, in today’s Nebraska, James and his brother William along with father Nathaniel, scouted for a safe place to cross. The river was not deep but the river bottom hid quicksand that could easily trap a wagon. The cattle had to be whipped and goaded to cross and James’ team tried to turn around in mid-stream but he was finally able to get them across.

James and Minerva and their two children survived the journey, unlike several of his siblings and other relatives. The little family settled on a donation land claim in western Clackamas County in 1853, their land, nearly 328 acres, laying on the south side of today’s Homesteader Road and east of Stafford Road. There they lived almost up to 1870 and where several more children were born: Judith Amanda, Ellen, Nathaniel James (“Bud”), and Minerva Elizabeth (“Minnie”).

By 1870 the family was living further west in Yamhill County, but they didn’t stay there long because by 1872 they were already well established in The Dalles, the county seat of Wasco County, in north-central Oregon along the Columbia River. Why did they move from the verdant green of the Willamette Valley to the hot arid country of Wasco County? It’s not for the reasons that other family members moved east, hopes of better land, the chance to ranch or to mine for gold. This family lived in town, where James is first listed in a county payment warrant from January of 1872 where he was paid $2 for jury service.

The Dalles (Oregon) in 1884

A mixture of sources (family, county, and newspaper) indicate that James Robbins was elected as a Democrat to the office of county coroner in 1876 and 1880 and he reportedly established and ran the hospital in The Dalles. Wasco County warrant books list a wide variety of expenses for which James was paid, including: jury service, physician services, providing extra clothing to a pauper, serving as “judge of elections,” various “hospital purposes,” witness at a coroner’s inquest, and in 1874 he was paid $6 for digging a grave.

As coroner, James Robbins had some interesting duties. The local newspaper reported in February of 1884 that “Coroner Robbins received a postal yesterday from Hood River, dated the 21st. An Indian found a dead man hanging to a tree about 3 miles from that place. The coroner thinks the body is that of Henry Hoek, who has been missing for some time.” There was no report as to cause of death.

Despite being a physician, James found that he couldn’t keep his close family members from dying of disease, much as his father, a country physician, couldn’t on the Oregon Trail. In 1873, James and Minerva’s 16-year-old daughter Ellen died of “congestive fever.” The local newspaper reported that she was “a very intelligent young lady and beloved by all who knew her.”

JA Robbins funeral

Dr. James Anderson Robbins died on Monday, 15 November 1886, at his home in The Dalles. He had apparently been in poor health for a couple of years. He was 60-years-old and the funeral was held at the family home two days later. Sadly, while it is believed James was buried in the Pioneer Cemetery in The Dalles, no marker or other records survive which corroborates that.

Minerva Robbins continued to live in The Dalles, where in the 1897 city directory she was listed as a widow and milliner, and then later went to live with her daughter Minnie (Robbins) Whitby in La Grande, in northeastern Oregon. She would frequently visit other family members in the Willamette Valley where they would all reminisce about their previous life in Decatur County, Indiana, and their trek across the Oregon Trail in 1852. At such gatherings niece Kate (Sharp) Jones recorded the stories. Minerva outlived her husband by many years, passing away in 1920 at the age of 97. She too is said to be buried, unmarked, in The Dalles Pioneer Cemetery.

(Jacob Robbins-William Robbins/Absalom Robbins-Nathaniel Robbins/Nancy Robbins-James Anderson Robbins)

The Last of their Line: The Barnes Family

August 29, 2017August 29, 2017 / robbinsroots / Leave a comment

Occasionally a family dies out. Not in the sense that there are absolutely no connections to a particular person or an ancestral couple, but in the sense that they no longer have any direct living descendants. So it is with Absalom and Bethiah Emiline (Robbins) Barnes.

Absalom Barnes was married to one of Nathaniel and Nancy Robbins’ daughters, Emiline, as she was called by the family, in 1848 in Decatur County, Indiana. In 1850 the Barnes, with one son, were living next door to Emiline’s parents, her siblings, and her grandfather Absalom Robbins. The Barnes were another large family in that county.

The young couple joined Nathaniel Robbins’ family as they left Indiana in the fall of 1851, now with two little boys, wintered over in Missouri, and then set out on the Oregon Trail in mid-April of 1852. About a month out on the trail the Barnes’ wagon tipped over, reportedly only spilling some molasses and breaking some small things. But sadly this would not be worst thing to happen during the trek, as both Absalom and Emiline died of cholera in Nebraska, along with two of Emiline’s sisters.

Hired man John Lewis recorded in his diary of the Emiline’s death on May 31^st: “…this morning found the ill no better & we remaind in camp Mrs Barns d6ied at half past nine…” and then Absalom’s on June 3^rd: “…we laid in camp on the account of the sick being worse A Barns died at 5oc in the afternoon & was beried at 6oc he was beried on a high gravel point on the bank of the little blew R. 5 m. west of the place whare his wife was…” Both of the little boys would be taken in by their grandparents.

The oldest boy, Nathaniel Norval Barnes, was born in 1848, while the younger William Zachew Barnes (the middle name probably coming from his grandfather Zacheus Barnes), was born about 1851. Both were born in Decatur County. After arriving in Oregon, Nathaniel Robbins, the boys’ grandfather, went to the Clackamas county court and was named guardian of the two boys. For the rest of the 1850s and into the 1860s they lived with their grandparents. Again, sadly, William was not destined for a long life. He died at age 16 in 1867. In 1870, Nathaniel Barnes, the last of the Barnes family in Oregon, was living with his bachelor uncle John Dow Robbins, working on his farm in western Clackamas County, near the location of today’s Wilsonville, Oregon.

N.N. & Annie Barnes, with daughter Etta Viola

The following year he was married to Annie Mary Walker, and they had two children, Ettie Viola and Frederick Elijah Barnes. Again an early death would strike the family. Nathaniel Norval Barnes died at age 37 in 1886. He joined his brother in the nearby Robert Bird Cemetery. That left his widow Annie, and children Ettie and Fred.

Annie lived until age 56, dying in 1910. Fred, the only son, never married. He enlisted at Vancouver Barracks in 1917 in the 116th Aero Squadron, based at Kelly Field, Texas, and served overseas from December 1917 to May 1919. The unit was re-designated the 637^th in 1918 and was involved in the construction of the 1^st Air Depot on the Western Front. After returning from the war, Fred died of cancer in 1921, age 46.

The remaining member of the Barnes family, Etta Viola, married John Seth in 1926. Fifty-six years old at the time of her marriage, she and John never had any children. They weren’t married long either: she died in 1933 at age 61, having outlived all the rest of her biological family. Her husband John only survived her by two years.

Etta Viola (Barnes) Seth

Frederick Elijah Barnes

And this ends the line of Absalom and Emiline (Robbins) Barnes. We probably wouldn’t even have photos of them today except that Etta Viola corresponded with her second cousin Hallie May (Lee) Jaques, a granddaughter of Nancy (Robbins) Barstow, Emiline’s younger sister. Hallie passed photos on to her daughter, genealogist Margaret Davis, who in turn passed copies of the photos, and photocopies of others, on to me. This family line died out, but they are not forgotten.

(Jacob Robbins-William Robbins/Absalom Robbins-Nathaniel Robbins/Nancy Robbins-Bethiah Emiline (Robbins) Barnes)

Blue Bucket Gold

August 4, 2017 / robbinsroots / Leave a comment

The last two posts have discussed the first Robbins family to emigrate to Oregon (John and Dosha (Robbins) Herren and their children) and their barely-survivable “shortcut” across Oregon on the Meek Cutoff. This post will focus more specifically on an incident which occurred during that ill-fated trip: the discovery of gold.

There are several versions of the story. One of the most complete, though not error-free, accounts was written by Willard Hall Herren, son of William Jackson Herren, the eldest son of John and Dosha. In 1922 W. H. Herren wrote an article which appeared in The Oregonian (Portland, Ore.). Here are some excerpts:

Having noticed the several articles in The Oregonian regarding the Blue Bucket mine, some of my friends that know that I could give an account of its discovery have urged me to do so. Both my father, W. J. Herren, and my mother were members of the company that Steve Meek undertook to pilot from the crossing of Snake river to the Dalles in 1845.

W. H. Herren’s account, The Oregonian (1922)

Several of the young men that had saddle horses scouted the country over and finally found a ridge that led to the summit of the mountain. They concluded that if they could once get their outfits up on to this ridge they could make it over the mountains. By hitching ten and sometimes 12 yoke of oxen at a time to a wagon they finally succeeded in getting them up onto the divide. There was no water on the divide so they had to make a dry camp. The captain of the company told all of the young people who had saddle horses to take buckets and go hunt for water. My father, who was then 23 years old, and his sister, who afterwards became the wife of William Wallace, took their old blue wooden buckets and started out to find water. They finally found a dry creek bed which they followed until they found a place where a little water was seeping through the gravel and while my father was digging for water his sister saw something bright and picked it up.

The account given me states that they found two good sized lumps or nuggets, and that there were many fine particles in the gravel. He was quite sure that it was gold at the time, and when he arrived at camp he showed it to some of the older men, who told him that if it was gold it would be malleable. So one of them took a hammer and hammered both pieces out flat into a sauce-shaped disc. He had a tool chest with a secret drawer in it. He hid the gold in the chest, therefore no one but the members of the family ever knew what became of it. I well remember the old tool chest and its secret drawer.

It is not known for sure where this incident took place, but many researchers, including the research team gathered for The Meek Cutoff by Brooks Ragan, one of the books I mentioned in the last post, believe it occurred in the Crooked River country, south and slightly east of today’s Prineville Reservoir.

There are other, different, stories that have come down in the family. One version holds that William J. Herren and his cousin Dan Herren picked up two yellow rocks while out tracking some lost cattle. Taking the rocks back to camp they showed them only to their family. They were not sure whether it was gold or not, but to be safe they agreed to keep the find a secret. John S. Clark, nephew of William J. Herren, later said that the family was more interested in their lost cattle than the nugget. Clark didn’t believe that the emigrants knew what gold looked like anyway.

Another version has Dan Herren discovering a large nugget of gold by himself in some muddy tracks made by cattle going to water. Still another story is recounted by Lydia (Wallace) Steckel, daughter of William and Susan (Herren) Wallace. She told how family members found an old blue water bucket, made of cedar. Near the bucket Susan Wallace picked up some heavy yellow metal in the bed of a stream. She reportedly said, “If this is gold, I can fill the old blue bucket!”

Willard Hall Herren

Who knows which is the true story, but the consistency of accounts indicate gold, in some condition, was found. I tend toward the W. H. Herren story, as his is the most complete and he heard it from his father. He went on to describe later attempts to find the gold:

My people have always hoped that some members of the family would eventually find the place where the gold was discovered, and many years ago my father gave me an old leather-bound memorandum book, with maps and diagrams showing the water courses and giving a general description of the country. I once did some prospecting in the immediate vicinity of where the gold was found. I found some fine gold, but it was late in the fall and the ground froze so that I had to give it up. I intended to go back some time and try it over, but have never done so. Many parties have hunted for the place. In either 1855 or 1856 one of my uncles in company with four others started for the place, but at that time the Indians were bad, and they got away with the horses and two of the party were killed by the Indians.

A final account describes a search by M. B. Rees, kin to the Herren family, which appeared in the Blue Mountain Eagle (John Day, Ore.), which may explain the find: “The Rees party followed the route so accurately that even the marks of the trail made by the immigrant wagons were visible. They came to the camping place where the nugget had been picked up. Mr. Rees was fairly well acquainted with mining and when the place was reached, he knew that the nugget which had been found was a mere chance discovery and that it had evidently been dropped there by some other agency than that through the working forces of nature. This journey convinced Mr. Rees that the Blue Bucket Mines were destined to remain through the years as they had in the past – only a myth.”

Though the gold was never found again, the lure of a “lost gold mine” played no small part in the exploration and eventual settlement of eastern Oregon after the western parts of the state were filled with settlers. Many of our family members went east to search for the gold and ended up mining, farming, or ranching, spreading our family throughout the inland Northwest.

(Jacob Robbins-William Robbins-Theodoshia (Robbins) Herren-William Jackson Herren-Willard Hall Herren)

Meek Cutoff and the Herrens

July 22, 2017 / robbinsroots / 1 Comment

This post is a more in depth look at one aspect of the first Robbins-connected family’s trip to Oregon, as recounted last week, about the Herren family’s trek across eastern Oregon on the Meek Cutoff in 1845.

There have been a number of books written about the Cutoff. The Terrible Trail: The Meek Cutoff, 1845 by Keith Clark and Lowell Tiller (1966) and The Brazen Overlanders of 1845 by Donna Wojcik Montgomery (1976), look at the entirety of the 1845 emigration from Missouri to Oregon, and provide listings of every family they have identified as being on the Oregon Trail that year. Two more recent books take a slightly different approach. Wood, Water & Grass: Meek Cutoff of 1845 (2014) by James H. and Theona Hambleton takes a very pro-Stephen Meek position, claiming that the mountain man, by virtue of his frequent fur trapping travels across Oregon, was never lost and knew exactly where he was at all times. This is a view not held by other researchers, including the group of researchers that came together to study and travel the Cutoff and who’s work is the basis for The Meek Cutoff: Tracing the Oregon Trail’s Lost Wagon Train of 1845 (2013) by Brooks Geer Ragen. Anyone interested in the Cutoff is encouraged to find these books for the various perspectives they provide.

John Herren, the husband of Dosha Robbins, apparently kept a journal of the family’s trip west. The only part that has survived is a portion beginning at Fort Boise on the Snake River on August 23^rd and ending on September 8^th and the Ragen book quotes the entirety of this journal, and uses it to help track the emigrants route and identifies the Herren family’s nightly camp sites. This diary excerpt was first published in the Albany (Oregon) Daily Democrat in January of 1891. In the introduction to that reprint was the following information:

“The following is an extract from a diary kept by Mr Herron, father of W J Herron, of Salem, and of J R Herron, a former Sheriff of Linn county. The diary was obtained by Jason Wheeler, of this city, from J R Herron and copied. Mr Herron afterwards lost the original.” And at the end of the published extract was this note: “Here the diary was torn and mutilated so that I could not proceed with it any further.” An additional story is that the original of the journal was lost in a family house fire in 1918.

Stephen L. Meek

On August 23^rd, 1845, John Herren wrote:

“This morning our company was called together, for the purpose of hiring a pilot to conduct us across the bed Boise River and over the Blue Mountains, down to the Dalles on the Columbia River. This route will cut off the bend of the road that leads down Burnt River, and is said to be one hundred and fifty (150) miles nearer than the old route. Price agreed on with Mr. Meek to take us through the new route was fifty dollars, so we got up our oxen and started about 9 o’clock, and travelled a northwest course to a beautiful stream of water called Malheur, about twelve miles from where we crossed the river; found plenty of grass and small willows to build a fire to get supper with, so there was no grumbling.”

In the days following Herren noted the rough road (“the worst road that they [oxen, cattle and horses] had traveled over yet, for it was uncommonly rocky and hilly” and “We had to remove some ten thousand stones before we could pass near the head of this ravine”), the presence of Indians (“the [Indians] stole one horse last night within thirty yards of our encampment”), the lack of food and water for stock (“found no water, only a small spring that did not afford water enough to drink, so our poor oxen, cattle and horses had to suffer for water another night”), and growing disenchantment with their guide and the emigrants decision to leave the main Oregon Trail (“I hope that no other emigrants will ever be gulled as we have been”).

Albany (Oregon) Daily Democrat, 2 Jan. 1891

After ten days of traveling west, north, and south through the arid lands of southeastern Oregon John Herren notes some tension in the wagon train.

“There is nothing here to cheer our drooping spirits. We are making slow headway, the country here is so broken and rocky that we cannot get along fast, and we are rather doubtful that our pilot is lost for he has been seven days longer getting to the waters of Jay’s river than he told us he would be. Some talk of stoning and others say hang him. I can not tell how the affair will terminate yet, but I will inform you in its proper place…”

The following day Herren mentioned seeing a mountain which he thought was the Oregon Cascades and that they were on Jay’s River – now called the John Day River – when in fact they were far south on the Silvies River which flows south into the landlocked Malheur Lake. The emigrants had a long way still to travel, even if they knew the direction to take.

“September 4th. – We started about 8 o’clock and traveled a south course about 4 miles, then turned southwest about 2 miles and passed down a very rocky hill or mountain into the valley of Jay’s river, here we turned a west course about 8 miles to a beautiful little rivulet of water but no wood except small willows. Grass is very good. This valley is on the river that we have been looking for the last seven days. I hope the grumbling will cease now as our course appears to be west and the peak at the mouth of Jay’s river near the Columbia, is visible, and our pilot says it is about one hundred miles distance. To-day 14 miles.”

The last journal entry finds the Herrens near the Glass Buttes not far off today’s highway 20 in desolate country:

“September 8th. – We started at 8 o’clock and traveled west about 10 miles over some of the best road that we have had since we passed the Rocky Mountains, but in the evening we had some rocky road for a few miles; here we turned about 2 degrees north of west for about 4 miles and found no grass and had to encamp in a patch of wild sage, where it was as high as our wagons. About one mile south of where we are we found a little water, enough to cook supper with. The stream of water that we stayed on last night runs out of the side of a mountain through a hole six feet in diameter; there is water enough within six feet of where it runs out to a drown a horse. Passed some plains to-day that were covered.”

The party turned north, then west, and then more northerly again as they sought the Deschutes River, finally locating it near present-day Cline Falls. Once on the Deschutes the emigrants were “found” and could follow that river down to The Dalles on the Columbia. They were lucky to have not lost any family members during their misadventure, it is estimated that about 25 emigrants died on the route or after arrival in The Dalles.

There is another aspect of this story – while lost in central Oregon the Herren family found what later became known as the Lost Blue Bucket Gold Mine – but that tale will be told next week.

(Jacob Robbins-William Robbins-Theodoshia (Robbins) Herren & John Herren)

First to Oregon: John and Theodoshia (Robbins) Herren

July 15, 2017 / robbinsroots / 2 Comments

The first of the Robbins-connected families to emigrate to Oregon was that of John and Theodoshia (“Dosha”) (Robbins) Herren, who crossed the plains in 1845. They had already left Decatur County about 1838/39 when they moved to Platte County, Missouri, situated at the jumping off point of the great wagon trains leaving St. Joseph, Missouri. John Herrens’ brother-in-law, the Rev. Enoch Garrison (married to Margaret Herren), had emigrated to Oregon in 1842 and probably sent letters back to the Herrens telling of the trip and the availability of free land in Oregon.

John and Dosha (Robbins) Herren

The youngest child of William and Bethiah Robbins, Dosha was married to John Daniel Herren on 13 June 1822 in Henry County, Kentucky. Soon after they moved to Decatur County where John filed for 80 acres south of Gaynorsville, joining Robbins and Herren siblings.

In the spring of 1845, John and Dosha Herren and their large family of twelve children, one son-in-law, William Wallace, one grandchild, and John’s 20-year-old nephew Daniel Herren, gathered near St. Joseph, Missouri, to form part of the “St. Joseph Division” of one of the largest wagon trains. John and Dosha held great hope for their new life in Oregon as demonstrated by the naming of their youngest daughter Elizabeth Columbia Herren. While the majority of the trip passed without major incident, the Herrens were one of the families swayed by the mountain man Stephen Meek into crossing central Oregon over what is now called the Meeks Cutoff. Anyone who has driven over this arid, hot, mostly treeless desert between the cities of Burns and Bend, can’t help but cringe at the thought of being there in a wagon slowly pulled by thirsty, plodding oxen. More details of Meeks Cutoff will be in next week’s post.

When their wagon train finally straggled into The Dalles, they were in poor shape. Dosha’s 10-year-old son Levi Herren, always remembered his first meal there which included fresh bread, fruit, and kegs of syrup. The Herrens then rafted down the Columbia, taking on provisions at the Hudson Bay Company’s Fort Vancouver on the north side of the river. They were transported across the Columbia on a Hudson Bay ferry and then followed the “Germantown” road to the Tualatin valley.

For the first winter the Herrens stayed at Whiteson in Yamhill County with the Rev. Garrison, and then in March of 1846 John Herren and his family located about four miles east of Salem on land that already had a cabin on it. They remained there for two and a half years. The lure of gold was strong though, and in the fall of 1848 John, some of his children and son-in-law William Wallace, went to California where they had some success in the gold fields on the Feather River. Spending about five months there (until the spring of 1849), John returned to Oregon by boat with $2,000 in gold dust.

That the Herrens continued to be in contact with the family in Indiana during this time, and likely in contact with brother Nathaniel Robbins and cousin Jacob Robbins is evidenced by the mention of a letter William Herren wrote to his uncle William Robbins: “…I received a letter from John Herrens son William which told us that they was all well, the letter was dated May the 3rd. [1852]” It is interesting that William Jackson Herren, writing letters to his uncle, had last seen William Robbins about 12 or 13 years before when the younger Herren was only 15 or 16 years old. Obviously strong family ties remained even though the families were separated by a wide continent.

John Herren’s Donation Land Claim

After returning from California John Herren took up a new donation land claim of 635 acres six miles southeast of Salem in the fertile farmland near Mill Creek. The claim was settled on 2 July 1849 and there John and Dosha remained until their deaths in 1864 and 1881 respectively, and were buried in the Herren family cemetery.

Their land claim, or part of it, was later sold to the state of Oregon and became the location of the Oregon State Penitentiary. The Herren family cemetery is located on the penitentiary grounds – not in the highest security area, but rather on the “farm annex” – though the property still requires a prison guard escort to visit. The cemetery, however, is one of the best maintained small family cemeteries I’ve ever seen, with the gravestones sparkling white and the grass kept mowed.

At her death in 1881 Dosha (Robbins) Herren left many descendants. As reported in the Portland Oregonian at the time:

“Mrs. Herren was the honored and beloved mother of 13 children. 7 sons and 6 daughters, all of whom lived to man and womanhood and 10 of whom together with 104 grandchildren and great-grandchildren now live to mourn her loss and venerate her memory.”

It might be noted that Dosha’s passing was also reported back in Decatur County, Indiana, where her obituary appeared in the Greensburg Saturday Review in January of 1882.

(Jacob Robbins-William Robbins-Theodoshia (Robbins) Herren)

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