A long time ago, before the hand of progress had stamped the land with a net work of steel, or commerce and trade had blackened the skies of blue, John Hamilton and Tabitha Thweatt were married. There was no cutting of Dutchess satin or charmeuse draped with shadow lace, for it took time in those days to prepare for a wedding. Silk worms had to be raised, thread spun and woven into cloth before the bride's clothes could be fashioned. Waiting was no bar to happiness; the bride-to-be sang merrily while spinning or weaving at her loom and as the shuttles went in and out her day dreams were inter-mingled with the weaving of her wedding garments.

In the year of our Lord, 1770, the making of silk in the colonies was a new industry and when Mistress Tabitha decided on silk for her wedding dress she had to plant mulberry twigs and wait for them to grow. She had to pick the leaves to feed the worms until they wrapped themselves in their silken cocoons and as soon as the cocoons would web they were baked to keep them from cutting the raw silk. It took one hundred cocoons to make one strand of silk. After all these preparations this colonial girl's dream of a silken wedding gown grew into a realization. She not only raised the silk worms, but spun the silk that they had webbed and wove it into shimmering cloth, from which her wedding gown was made. She also knit her wedding stockings of silk; but only one pair of silk went into her trousseau for the rest were knit of cotton.

The family records say that this couple had no worldly goods except what their own hands had wrought. They were God-fearing people of the Puritan type. He felled the trees and sawed them into logs out of which their home was constructed. The logs that went toward the building of their home were mortised and pinned together with wooden pegs. The floors were puncheon flat slabs split from whole tree trunks and the doors and windows were made of oak and were swung on great wooden hinges. The chimney was of "stick and dirt" and across the broad fire place hung the crane from which were suspended the cooking utensils.

John Hamilton was a member of one of Virginia's most distinguished families. He possessed an iron will that defied adversity; he blazed the way through his state and was brave enough to "hew down forests and live on crumbs." Mistress Tabitha was a help-meet to her pioneer husband. She not only cooked his meals but carried them to him when he worked in the field. He had the honor, and in those days it was indeed an honor, to be elected as a representative from his state to Congress. The frugal and beautiful Tabitha accompanied him to Washington. Her preparation for the replenishing of her ward-robe was quite as elaborate as those formerly made for her wedding. With deft hands she carded from the snowy cotton piles of rolls that were spun into thread and she wove many yards of cloth from which she made her underwear. From carefully carded bats of cotton she spun many spindles of fine smooth thread that was woven into fine cream cotton goods, some of which were dyed with copperas. Some was spread day and night on the grass where the dew would fall to bleach it. From the bleached cotton this industrious woman made her dresses and the snowy whiteness of some of her gowns was the envy of her neighbors. She also carried in her little hair trunk to Washington, not only many well made cotton garments, but was the proud possessor of one black silk dress and two black silk aprons. The dress was afterward described as being so heavy that it could "stand alone." Mistress Tabitha, although a little overworked, was not too weary after reaching Washington to attend the Presidential ball and dance the minuet with the gallant Washington and the noted LaFayette.

John and Tabitha Hamilton had eleven children. All were born in Virginia except one, who came after they moved to Hancock County, near Sparta, Georgia, in 1791. Their home was destroyed twice by the Tories and once by a Tornado. Mr. Hamilton had just completed a nice dwelling for his family when the memorable tornado and cyclone passed over that portion of Georgia in April, 1805. All of the family except Jack and Everard were away from home. There was but one small house left on the place, their new house having been blown away, none of it left standing. Some of the doors were found six miles off in an adjoining county. Clothing, books and papers were carried promiscuously away. Jack was much bruised, having been struck by many things. His booksack was blown away, and his "Ovid" was found forty miles over in Baldwin County and returned to him. This book is now in possession of one of his descendants. Everard was carried into the air and lodged in a swamp about a quarter of a mile away, where he was caught up by the whirl wind. Madame Hamilton took this misfortune as coming from God and helped her husband to collect anew his scattered fortune. Later we read of them as living on their plantation surrounded by their servants, who ministered to their comforts and attended their broad fields.

In reading about the women who lived in the early days of Georgia, their splendid lives stand as a beacon to the reckless and extravagant ones of today. They not only spun the thread and wove the cloth used in their homes, but they made all of the clothes their children wore, and reared them to be God-fearing men and women. They visited their neighbors for thirty miles away and extended a glad welcome and cordial hospitality for any and every guest. One with impunity may ask the question: "Are they pleased with their descendants, these women of Georgia's pioneer days?"—Mrs. J. L. Walker, Lyman Hall Chapter, D.A.R.