Sunday, April 24, 2011

Incidents in the Life of Robert Wimmer Brother of Jemima Wimmer Powell

I Robert Wimmer, son of Peter and Elizabeth Shirley Wimmer, was born in the state of Pennsylvania in the year A. D. 1805. I moved with my father to Cincinnati, Ohio, in the year 1808, when Cincinnati had not more than 550 inhabitants. From there I moved to Gold Vain 11 miles west, and from there 5 miles still west. Here Father opened a large farm in the timber.

Here I got my first pair of pants. I wore long shirts. I expect I was ten years old before I owned a pair of pants or shoes. My mother had to make all our wearing apparel out of flax, tow and wool. Wool was carded by hand and spun on a little wheel. I can well recollect when the women made their dresses out of four yards of yard wide home made cloth. They made their skirts wide enough to run in. They made our shirts out of flax. Domestic cotton was not then worn. The women said it was so hard to wash, they would rather make linen than wash cotton cloth. You could hear the buzz of the little wheel in every home.

My father was called to war in 1814 under General Harrison and left my mother with four little boys in winter time. It was a hard winter too. There was a mad dog that came and drove us up on the loft and kept us there 30 hrs, when a neighbor man came in and rescued us from danger.

About the year 1820 my father hired me to an Indian trader and took me to Andersontown, twenty five miles north of Indianapolis, on the White River, a Delaware Indian Village. I became a great favorite with the Indians and they offered a very high price for me in horses. My father got uneasy about me and took me home. One, Ben Davis, and his squaw followed to steal me, but kept watch. Some of the Delaware Indians have silver ornaments, such as broaches. Half moons hung down their back. They wore large nose ornaments. They had the rims of their ears cut.

They laid their dead on top of the ground near black posts with a cross near the top and built pens around them. I was at one of their grave yards one day. Seeing a considerable pile of tobacco, I slipped a piece. One of the Indians saw me and gave me a chase. He over took me and picked me up by the seat of the pants and back of the neck and threw me against a big stump and came very near to caving my side in. Some of the Indians would bury their dead in great logs, others upon trees. The trails or roads were very narrow, as they always grew one right after the other. Their trail some places was very deep for roads.

This story about James Powell, written in the hand writing of Jemima Wimmer, the story of Robert Wimmer, written in his own hand, were found in an old family record book of Peter and Elizabeth S. Wimmer in the possession of Robert Wimmer a grandson of afore mentioned Robert Wimmer. Compiled by Mary L. Powell (Blackburn) about 1930. Also present was Elizabeth M. Powell and Mr. and Mrs. Robert Wimmer; Robert’s sister, and Mrs. David Huish.

Note by Michael Leonard: This text is from a transcript given to me by my father that was typed by his relatives from hand written accounts by the authors of the accounts. James Powell and Jemima Wimmer Powell are the parents of John Ammon Powell who was married to Sarah Jane Shields Plumb Powell and they are the parents of Zoe Ellen Powell who was married to Leopold Leonard who were the parents of my father Max Gene Leonard.

Here is a link to some history of the Powells: and here is some history of the Leonards:

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