Harriet Searle Van Brocklin - Doing God’s work on the Prairie

This blog post was inspired by Amy Johnson Crow 's "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge.  Learn more at her blog.  This post was originally published in 2010, but since I can’t do better telling her story, I am re-publishing it for this series.

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Nestled between cornfields southwest of Freeport, Illinois, sits a lasting reminder that Harriet Van Brocklin was there, and that she had faith. It takes a special kind of person to be a pioneer.  Harriet’s husband, Conrad, was that kind of person, and while he stands out in his community’s history, it’s clear that Harriet was his kindred spirit in that respect.  Not just any young woman would leave “civilization”, as well as her family, and take her two babies to what was at that time the western frontier, and live among Indians and wolves.  But Harriet did, in the spring of 1836.  She was taking herself, and her children, to an area where there were no doctors, no neighbors, and what you had was what you brought.   For some time, the Van Brocklins were the only settlers in Florence township, in sparsely settled Stephenson county, Illinois.  It would be a year and a half before another settler moved into the area.  How lonely she must have been!

But Harriet had brought faith with her.  She became a Christian as a child in New York, and her relationship to God was vitally important.  The Van Brocklins held their own religious services, and had public services as early as 1846 in an old log school house near their home.  In 1852, Harriet organized a Methodist congregation, and by 1860 it was part of a circuit of 5 churches with two ministers.  In 1866, the Van Brocklin church building was completed, built on land donated at least partially by the Van Brocklins, with money raised by subscription.   In more recent history, services were still held every other week, sharing a minister with another congregation.  Harriet has long since gone, but her work lives on.

Van Brocklin's Day 

On Yellow Creek they built a Church
And enemies said, "'twill be left in lurch,"
For the waters were high and the debt was large,
And God, they said, was against the charge. 

But the day was bright and the sun shone clear,
And a pontoon bridge they crossed without fear;
And though the feet slipped the heart was true,
And they walked on ice to see the thing through. 

The Elder preached well of Christ and love,
And carried our thoughts to temples above;
And when he stopped, Brother Best did write,
And soon the debt was out of sight. 

Yea, more than asked, with a hearty will,
Because our God their thoughts did fill;
And thanks to friends and God we'll give --
Praise here, and then go home to live. 

May angels often come and see
Repentant sinners bend the knee,
And new-born souls begin the song
They sing in heaven's assembled throng. 

--J. Wardie
Freeport, Feb. 20, 1883

 Van Brocklin Church,~2009

Forebear Friday – Henry O. Van Brocklin

Stephenson county, Illinois was in Henry Orville Van Brocklin’s blood.  The last child of Florence township pioneers Conrad and Harriet (Searle) Van Brocklin, he was born on 24 Feb 1846 in Freeport.

As a young man, he taught several terms of school, and joined his father in farming the 375 acre home farm.  And like his father before him, he held Florence township offices.  He took over the farm entirely when his father died in 1877.
He married Mary D. Woolheiser, daughter of Emanuel and Amanda (Crosby) Woolheiser, a native of New York, in 1871.  They had five children – a son and a daughter who died in infancy; Inez (born 1875); Iva (b. 1879); and Arthur (born 1881).  Inez married Horatio Stevens; Arthur married Mabel Rampenthal; and Iva married Ellis Goodsell, and their sons Wilber and Lowell appear to have ownership of the farm in the late 1950s.
Henry Orville Van Brocklin left this world in the same place he entered it – the city of Freeport – on 6 December 1915, at the age of 69.  His wife died some 30 years later.   Like so many others of Henry’s family, they was buried in Ellis-Van Brocklin cemetery, immediately across the creek from the family farm.

Sources:

Van Brocklin, H. O. & Mary (Woolheiser).  Photograph. ca. 1910.  Digital image.  Privately held by Christine Martin [address for private use].  2008. 

Van Brocklin, H. O. & Mary (Woolheiser) headstone.  Photograph, Ellis-Van Brocklin cemetery, Section 17, Florence township, Stephenson county, Illinois.  Digital image.  Privately held by Gary and Karen Seeman [address for private use].  2006. 

Portrait & Biographical Album of Stephenson County, Illinois.  Chicago: Chapman Brothers.  1888

Harriet Van Brocklin – Doing God’s work on the Prairie

Nestled between cornfields southwest of Freeport, Illinois, sits a lasting reminder that Harriet Van Brocklin was there, and that she had faith.


It takes a special kind of person to be a pioneer.  Harriet’s husband, Conrad, was that kind of person, and while he stands out in his community’s history, it’s clear that Harriet was his kindred spirit in that respect.  Not just any young woman would leave “civilization”, as well as her family, and take her two babies to what was at that time the western frontier, and live among Indians and wolves.  But Harriet did, in the spring of 1836.  She was taking herself, and her children, to an area where there were no doctors, no neighbors, and what you had was what you brought.   For some time, the Van Brocklins were the only settlers in Florence township, in sparsely settled Stephenson county.  It would be a year and a half before another settler moved into the area.  How lonely she must have been.


But Harriet had brought faith with her.  She was converted as a child in New York, and her relationship to God was vitally important.  They held their own religious services, and had public services as early as 1846 in an old log school house near their home.  In 1852, Harriet organized a Methodist congregation, and by 1860 it was part of a circuit of 5 churches with two ministers.  In 1866, the Van Brocklin church building was completed, built on land donated at least partially by the Van Brocklins, with money raised by subscription.   In more recent history, services were still held every other week, sharing a minister with another congregation.  Harriet has long since gone, but her work lives on.

Van Brocklin's Day

On Yellow Creek they built a Church
And enemies said, "'twill be left in lurch,"
For the waters were high and the debt was large,
And God, they said, was against the charge.

But the day was bright and the sun shone clear,
And a pontoon bridge they crossed without fear;
And though the feet slipped the heart was true,
And they walked on ice to see the thing through.

The Elder preached well of Christ and love,
And carried our thoughts to temples above;
And when he stopped, Brother Best did write,
And soon the debt was out of sight.

Yea, more than asked, with a hearty will,
Because our God their thoughts did fill;
And thanks to friends and God we'll give --
Praise here, and then go home to live.

May angels often come and see
Repentant sinners bend the knee,
And new-born souls begin the song
They sing in heaven's assembled throng.

--J. Wardie
Freeport, Feb. 20, 1883

Who Are You???

What a frustrating enigma! I hold my "mystery photograph" in my hands, and look hard at the face, as if by staring at it a little longer, the lips will move, and the Mystery Woman will give me a hint... It's hard to know the woman in this photograph is a beloved ancestor, and have no idea who, specifically, she is.

I know one thing. It's not Julia, as was labeled on the back by a fellow descendant, who likes to guess at such things, not always accurately. I might have been tempted to make the same assumption, as this woman's photograph was among others from that family, had I not already known what Julia looked like. I have two photographs of Julia, both known to be her, although older in years in both of them. Her straight, white hair, parted down the middle, frames her oval face with its fine features. She's a small woman, with a little bit of a scowl on her face. The woman in the Mystery Photograph is a plump, hardy-looking middle aged woman with short dark hair, curling like scallops around her soft, square face. Her ears lay flat below her round-brimmed hat, while Julia's are quite the opposite. The Mystery Woman, wearing a long, double-breasted coat that appears to be wool, clutches a pair of gloves in her hands, and is standing beside an ornate, very unusual table that no doubt is among the photographer's props. No photographer, nor location, is mentioned.

I recall stories of genealogy researchers, standing in a cemetery, looking for their ancestor's grave, when suddenly they realized they are standing on it... or by some other miraculous occurrence, happen to find what they are looking for against the odds. While waiting for a similar miracle to fall from Heaven regarding my Mystery Woman, I keep trying to make contact with as many other descendants of this family as possible, hoping one of them will have send me a photograph with those familiar-looking eyes. And while they lips won't move, they will surely speak to me about this dear lady's identity, and her place among my ancestors.