June 27, 1997
The story of our Pettit family begins in France in the time of Napoleon Bonapart. The father of the family was put in a dungeon when he raised the anger of Napoleon. His young son felt very sad, of course, and as he was walking with a cloud of unhappiness over his head he crossed paths with a sea captain - a friend of his father. Once relating the miserable misfortune of his father to the compassionate and sympathetic mariner, the man said to the boy, "I'll take you on my ship to Canada where you have relatives." So the boy boarded the ship and sailed to Canada never once again hearing what had happened to his unfortunate father. The boy grew up in Canada and that is how the Pettit family started here.
Mary E. Beckwith daughter of E. Marguerite Nash
February 22, 1960
According to what my father, Wilson M. Pettit, MD, told me in 1929 during his last illness, Elizabeth Wilson, his paternal grandmother, was the daughter of Captain James Oliver (if I remember correctly, James was his given name), who served in the body-guard of George Washington during the American Revolution. According to such information as I have, she moved to the town of Wilson, Niagara Co., New York in 1836. The son who was 10 months old when she married Samuel Pettit was named Curtis Pettit. I have his carpentry book in my possession. It has Albany, 1831, and his signature written in it. Wilson Marion Pettit was born in Wilson and had many cousins and relatives there.
Emma Marguerite (Pettit) Nash
(Mrs. Daniel Van Brocklyn Nash)
(Emma Marguerite Pettit Nash was the sister of Mary Lois Pettit Harris, Pat's maternal grandmother.)
By
Written in 1862 at the age of 76
My parents were both born in the state of Massachusetts. My father was a native of Boston, but early in his life removed and settled among the hills that so beautifully intersperse the uneven scenery of the Old Bay State. My father was one of the honored sons of the revolution.
Early in life, and at the commencement of that long and bloody struggle that gave the inhabitants of this, the best of all countries or lands, the privileges that we now enjoy, did he give himself at the call of his country, to fight for her liberty and if needs be to die on the battle field.
Leaving a young wife with whom he had only a few weeks (before?) stood up in the pride of his manhood and was united in the bonds of matrimony. Nobly and cheerfully did my mother bid adieu to him to whom she had so recently given her hearts best affection, and went to reside with a sister who also had bidden farewell to a husband, for duty also called him to the seat of war.
Lonely, very lonely must have been the feelings of these sisters, living as they did in a new country subjected to all the trials and privations incident to a pioneer life. But far more trying it must have been to the fortitude and patriotism of those wives as day after day, week after week, and perhaps months would elapse without hearing from their absent and loved ones.
Long before my father was permitted to furlough for home, was there another to claim the affection and attention of my mother. With what joy did he look upon his first born, his beautiful little daughter that God had given him during his absence and enjoy the companionship of the dear home ones, we can only conjecture. That daughter was the faithful wife of one of the first settlers of this town and the mother of its present sons.
Short was his stay for his country was in peril and again bidding farewell to his loved ones, he hastened to the active duties of a soldier's life, and only once again during the seven years of service did he visit his home. An attack of bilious fever, followed by fever and ague sent him home but as soon as strength returned he returned to active service and remained until peace was declared. He enlisted as a private but was promoted to a captain, and his commission is now in the archives at Washington.
Little can we realize the feelings of those faithful soldiers when peace was declared after such a long and eventful struggle. With a heart full of gratitude to Him who had so mercifully watched over him and his through all the perils of this long and terrible war he came again to his loved ones at home.
He settled in the town of Brookfield where for a few years he resided, and then another daughter and a son were given him. He with others was paid in Continental money, this being nearly useless, or bringing a small percentage, left him with a small allowance to commence the life again and poverty soon stared him in the face. Exposure and hardship endured brought on the rheumatism that caused him to be nearly an invalid for life.
Early in life my father gave his heart to the Lord and united with the Presbyterian church and ever after maintained a consistent profession and acknowledged God in all his ways. Doubtless thinking to benefit his situation by removal to another state, and hoping to secure a home of his own, my parents with their three children took a long and tedious journey, for the facilities for travelling were very different from what it is now. They found a resting place among the hills near the western shore of our beautiful Hudson. There in an entirely new country did my father erect his log cabin among the spruce and pines of Montgomery Co., N.Y. There we think they must have been fed by Elisha's ravens. Surely they were watched over and fed by kind heavenly father who ever watches over and protects the interest of his dear children.
Soon after their settlement in the dreary forest on the 26th day of April, 1786 when the snow was several feet deep and living in an open and cold log house, was another daughter born, being their forth child. This child was thought to be the image of her father, of dark hair, eyes and complexion, strong featured, and very precious in their eyes. They called her Elisabeth.
Very soon a sufficient spot of ground was cleared to raise a little corn and flax which article Mother was obliged to work into cloth before new dresses, and other clothing could be obtained. Who of us could spin all the clothing of the household and take care of four children.
The only brother now began to decline, and soon it was evident that consumption was doing its sure but fatal work on this young child, for at the age of six years he did, and seeing his corpse is the first thing that I can remember. This brother was buried in the first (grave?) made in the town of Broadalbin, and the impression then made as I viewed that dear brother in the cold arms of death has never been erased from my mind.
My father ever after lived in that town, had eleven children, five sons and six daughters. Two sons died young. All the rest lived to marry and had families of their own and all were useful members of society and the church, for which I feel very thankful, as also I do for a praying father and mother.
My father was very strict in his discipline, especially in keeping the Sabbath day. We were taught to reverence the day as the Lord's, not our own. We were not allowed to speak a loud word, or laugh, or do anything that would not be becoming in the house of God, neither would we dare disobey.
We were five noes from meeting, but our or the children's meeting was around father's knee, where we were early taught the Catechism, and to read in the Bible. Sabbath School books and papers were then unknown. Father and Mother went the five miles to church both riding on one horse, the children going as soon as able to walk the distance.
I will relate one act of disobedience of mine. One Sabbath day, feeling uneasy, I walked out as far as a patch of corn, and looking around, I observed an unusually large snake. Holding it down with a stick I took every stone within my reach and tried with all power to kill it to no avail. It only threw up its head with open mouth as if to defy me to harm it. I really thought it was the devil, and had come to punish me for this act of disobedience to my father in walking out on the Lord's Day. Seeing I could not conquer, I ran for the house, thinking could I but get to my father I should be beyond the reach of harm of this enemy of all good. This was my first conflict with the old adversary. I was very young but well I remember this and the effect upon my mind.
My father always maintained family worship morning and evening, and Sabbath afternoons we were all called to him and stood around and repeated the catechism, those of sufficient age to remember, and the younger ones were taught the Lord's prayer, then he prayed with us and for us, which closed the exercises of the day. When father was unable to sit up Mother would always conduct the exercises.
Living as we did in a new country with a large family to support we children early began to use every honorable means to procure a living and help our parents. Therefore at an early age we went out to service whenever needed in the surrounding families. I was about eight when I first went from home to work. I could pick up chips, hand in ends, rock the cradle, and hold the baby when put into my lap.
Well do I remember living from home as I did all summer. I thought I was making one less for my father to feed, for by this time he was an invalid most of the time. At times father taught school during the winter, which was a great help to us.
When about fifteen years of age I went to live with our minister, where I stayed nearly a year and a half. While there I was relieved from the burden under which I for a long time had been laboring on account of my sins, not because he talked especially to me about it. I struggled on not knowing what to do, feeling I was a great sinner doomed to destruction. O, what a burden of sin I then carried. I wept and prayed in secret no one knowing my troubled mind. Could I then unburdened my heart and (been?) told how to come to Christ, how much sooner I might have tasted of his love.
At last my burden became so great I thought I must die, and accordingly went away in a lone kitchen where I sometimes worked, and though I would die. There at the feet of my Savior I prostrated myself and gave myself to be his forever. When I arose I felt to be another person and to be living on another sphere. I was so light and happy and never since have I felt such a sense of sin. I said nothing to anyone on the subject and it was two years after that I united with the church, or made a public confession of religion.
Pastors were not as sociable, or free to converse with the children or the young as now. They visited us twice a year, when all were called into the best room, and each was conversed with and advised as (to) their needs regarding their spiritual welfare, then their duty was done. I lived with over twenty different families, sometimes where there was no prayer, at others where sin abounded, and many lessons of human nature, and family government I there learned.
Mysterious are the ways of providence. A mother was taken from earth to heaven, when human foresight would deem her presence of absolute necessity, for four young children, one an infant, and aged parents, required a mother's care and attention. The decree came, and she must die. We trust her spirit is now happy in the presence of her Redeemer. She at the same time as her husband was convicted of sin, and found pardoning peace in Jesus.
Those children needed a mother's care. An opportunity was given me to take the responsibility, I felt my weakness as my chief desire was to do good, and after deliberation and prayer, trusting in God for guidance and strength, I consented, and was married to Samuel Pettit, at the age of twenty-one, his youngest son then ten months old, the oldest eight years, and aged parents who were to live with us during their life. How well I fulfilled my duties is best known by my heavenly father. I tried to do all my duty and left the result with him.
The summer before our marriage my husband built a new house. In December, his wife's last sickness and death occurred. At this time he was in some debt. His farm was only partly clear, and it was very different land from what you are now permitted to till. These circumstances required that industry and economy should be practiced, so that the presence of the wheel and the loom were almost every day occurrence. We spun and wove nearly our entire wardrobe.
From time to time my family increased by sons and daughters, and twice death thinned our number, for two infant daughters were lain in the silent tomb. When I had been married thirteen years and six months I was the mother of nine children and had eleven to care for.
About this time sickness prevailed to some extent. First the aged father sickened and died, then the mother had a severe fit of sickness, but her time had not yet come as she was mercifully spared. Soon my own health began to fail, but the severest trial of my life came with the death of my husband in December, 1827.
It is useless to describe my feelings at this time. My youngest a wee boy of seven months, an aged and infirm mother, boys of an age to need a father's care and advice. Had I not been sustained by the widows' God, I should have failed altogether. In Him I put my trust and He sustained me and to Him be all the praise.
The death of Samuel Pettit was a very great loss and trial to his own family, but the entire community mourned for they had lost a faithful friend, a kind and obliging neighbor, a man whose ear was ever open to hear the cry of the needy and ever ready to relieve the wants, whose sympathies were easily excited, and never allowed want to go from his door if in his power to relive. The physician could not be reconciled to see him die, felt that his death would be such a loss to entire community. Ever a kind and obliged husband, and indulgent father, we could but severely feel our loss.
He loved his Bible and was often studying its sacred pages and its principles were his guide and wisdom. His religion led him to visit the fatherless and widow in their affliction and to keep himself "unspotted form the world." I will relate an instance, I might many.
We lived near a country tavern, and travelers and emigrants frequently would stop for rest. one time there came a family of strangers along. A child took sick and died there. His sympathy was excited towards the sorrowing parents, so he told them he had two little ones buried in his orchard and theirs should have a grave and be cared for the same as his own. Surely this must have been like a drink of pure water to those weary travelers: and when anyone came long too poor to pay their way they would send them to our house where they were ever welcome. He was very conscientious in all his dealings with others, rather surer wrong than do wrong.
He bought a tract of timbered land, thinking to market the timber, thus help procure necessities for the family. We thought surely we could have some calico dresses then. He deferred cutting any trees until he paid for the land for then it would be his own. In this we were disappointed. By some flaw in the title we lost the whole. This left the estate six hundred dollars at his death. And I must yet say that he never gave me or one of his children a cross or angry word, but was always mild and careful in his conversation.
Time rolled on. Every day added one to the growth of my children, one married, others from time to time went from home to procure a living, while the younger ones remained at home to work the farm and assist in the care of the aged grandmother, who lived to be over ninety years of age. During these years my own parents lived with me a part of the time. Father was an invalid and a great sufferer for a long time. He died at our house. Then mother came to this town and died there. Thus one after another passed away while I lived. For ten years I was in mourning.
Our house was now between two taverns, one half mile from each, five miles from the Presbyterian meeting and four from the Baptist, to which place I have (gone?) and back again in my younger days, making quite a Sabbath days journey for me. To see my boys growing up surrounded by such influence caused me much anxiety. The prayers then offered are best known by the God of the fatherless. I thought I would willingly sacrifice all this world's goods, could my children be removed from this wicked place. I prayed fervently and tried to exercise faith that we might be directed to some other place in the Lord's vineyard where I might get them all around my own fireside once more. I promised the Lord I would faithfully discharge my duty by praying with and for them.
Three of my children had come to this town having relatives here, and wrote to me of being sick with the ague. There seemed to be an opening and to be the will of God that I should come to them. I therefore with my other children came to this town in 1836, the youngest then nine years of age. I then could gather them all around me except two, and they soon came also.
One son, the infant at our marriage, was then living in Albany. His anxiety for Mother was such that he left and accompanied the family to their western home, wishing to see them settled again and learn something of the country we were coming to. He remained with us, and some of the oldest buildings can testify to his skill and industry. The first schoolhouse in town was built by him and he refused to give it up to the trustees until they would allow religious meetings to be held therein.
That infant that I took in my arms at my marriage has ever been as a father to the younger children, and ready to sympathize and assist me as occasion or circumstances required.
The Lord had granted me so many of my desires yet I was not satisfied. I wanted to see them all converted. A revival soon commenced in our new schoolhouse, and seven of my children were then made to rejoice in a Savior and could unite with me in thanks and praise to Him who had done so much for us, and nine then made a profession of religion by uniting with the churches. Truly I then felt to say with one of old, Mine eyes have seen thy salvation.
About five and a half years after that I was married to my second husband with whom I lived for twenty years, minus one week. He also has gone to his long home, while I am spared as a monument of God's mercy and to see my seventy-sixth birthday, but I do feel and rejoice and thank my heavenly Father today, that I am permitted to see so many of you together this side of the grave.
Three times has death entered our circle, and taken those of mature years. One son and two daughters now lay in yonder cemetery where all sooner or later must follow. My children number twenty-one, forty-seven grandchildren, twelve great grandchildren -- all numbering eighty. That they all may be useful on earth, and meet in unbroken family in heaven is now my prayer and chief desire.
Elizabeth Wilson
(The words in parentheses were added when typed as they were evidently were meant -- EMN.)