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The Big Trail & Other Ballads of the Tuscarawas

by Brother Joshua

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1.
Silver Frost 02:32
I crossed the river in the Autumn bloom I crossed the river when the world was new And all things were holy, all things were true I crossed the river alone I crossed the river in the summer heat On the banks of the river, I laid down to sleep I dreamed that the water turned red at my feet I crossed the river alone I crossed the river in the driving rain I found the table where the choice had been laid A pacifist’s Bible, a soldier’s steel blade I crossed the river alone I crossed the river in the silver frost I crossed the river when all was lost I sat on the banks and counted the cost I crossed the river alone
2.
Fifty Steps 02:50
Christopher Gist Left Fort Pitt In 1750, in Fall Washington’s man Survey the land Answer the general’s call Was it austere, That rugged frontier? Did you place a wildflower in your book? Did you tell Daniel Boone? Did you sing him a tune? Did he long for a personal look? The wild white men Like a river, rolled in Eyes turned whiskey red, With goods to barter, Deeds and charters, Cash on the barrelhead The trees all weep White Woman’s Creek A new wind howls on the land The sway of the wheat The chaff and the heat Cling tight to the Unchanging Hand Reverend Post With Holy Ghost In 61, to preach Take 50 paces A garden of graces A man must work to eat
3.
4.
The sun shrines bright on the Allegain Brother David and the mission train Head west, hard pressed, labor pains Taking shelter from the pouring rain Taking shelter from the pouring rain Two tall trees stand in the sun Intertwined, they grow as one From their roots a lifeblood runs From their roots comes Schoenbrunn From their roots comes Schoenbrunn Sister Anne, from the City of Peace A word of hope for the least of these A word of truth to bless us with A word of wisdom from the deaconess A word of wisdom from the deaconess John Heckewelder rolling in A caravan of our Delaware kin Sing a song to welcome them The river is wide and the gate is thin The river is wide and the gate is Brethren, put your swords away Let us all give thanks this day For all the good the Lord has made A guiding hand that doesn’t wane A guiding hand that doesn’t wane Hew the timber, split the wood Take the hand of brotherhood Taste and see that the Lord is good Taste and see that the Lord is good
5.
6.
I was young and steadfast, into the wilderness I roamed A Bible in my hands, a fire in my bones Across seas and battlegrounds, deep hardships I endured To escape the cruelty in men and to somehow be its cure Together we pray Always in my thoughts, the motherland still lingered close The trees and fields of home hung around me like a ghost But my heart was reserved for something greater, something more My blessed Savior, and that bright, bright shore Together we labor In this hollow world of sin there’s no fleeing war’s red tide We crossed the ocean but found it waiting for us on the other side Driven from our lands, beaten and starved in cruel exile We would set our holy house to flame, so it would not be defiled Together we suffer Miracles abounded when I walked the Forbidden Trail I placed my weak hands on their heads and they were somehow healed The fever left that had for so long had kept them bound They arose like resurrected ones and moved around Together we rejoice And in my dark night, when my soul is tossed in fear As on that ship so long ago that brought me here I see the hatchet head, I see them marched in rows I see my brethren out there and they’re dying in the snow
7.
Gnadenhutten 02:58
8.
O' Goshen 03:16
Clouds loom heavy and low, the snow is bound to be heading our way The harvest has passed. Does nothing good last? Must everything wither or stray? O’ Goshen, the hills are empty and gray O’ Goshen, Goshen The cattle once grazed on the hillside, we put our feeble hands to the earth Through drought and flood, cloud and sun, We’ve known glory, baptism and birth O’ Goshen, the last shall be the first O’ Goshen, Goshen Sing us a hymn that Joshua penned, sing and we’ll be gone again Ashes and wood mark the old neighborhood, And ghosts of what life might’ve been O’ Goshen, your memory hangs on the wind O’ Goshen, Goshen O’ Goshen, the sky is turning dim O’ Goshen, Goshen Somewhere deep in the trees, a grave is unseen, untended and still Henry, my son, my brother, my blood, may you find the path over the hill
9.
10.
11.
I dreamed of a garden With narrow paths of green At the end of the paths Stood a towering tree The branches were wide As wide as the sea I dreamed of a garden With narrow paths of green The brethren were singing As they walked the thin lines Planting and working In the shade of the pine And their voices resounded On the river like chimes The brethren were singing As they walked the thin lines There was laughter in the garden There was music and care Everyone was equal Everything shared They broke bread together In the warmhearted glare There was laughter in the garden Music and care When I woke from my dream Silence filled the air No singing was heard The streets were all bare I looked in the garden, There was nobody there When I woke from my dream Silence filled the air The people have scattered Along the levee But the flowers still bloom And here stands the tree The Christ still remains And the paths are still green The people have scattered Along the levee
12.
Look out yonder, down the tracks Here comes the Iron Horse Turn the page, the Industrial age Is a comin’ here in in force So long Sal, your old canal I believe has run its course Look out yonder, down the tracks Here comes the Iron Horse
13.
John Funston 00:53
14.
Roll, River 03:57
In came a steady stream of mill towns and factories Innovation on its way. The foundations laid Passing by the tollhouse man. Place some pennies in his hand Watch the river lap the shore. Ask for nothing more Roll, river, roll/ Fall upon us Turn, river, turn/ Tuscarawas Generations come and go, caught up in the ebb and flow Narrow smokestacks reaching high, silhouette the sky Sharpen up your plowman’s blade. Till the ground where choirs prayed Houses fill the hillside now and the river ground Run, river, run/ Come anoint us Flow, river, flow/ Tuscarawas Shutting down the locks for good; gather dust out in the wood The locomotive had its time. Now its past its prime Build the courthouse brick by brick. Wind the clock and hear it tick May the judges that you find be fair and just and kind Roll, river, roll/ And restore us Roar, river, roar/ Tuscarawas When your day finally comes, have your time under the sun None of this is guaranteed. We are wind tossed seeds
15.
Jesus, still lead on Till our rest be won. And, although the way be cheerless, We will follow, calm and fearless; Guide us by Your hand To our Fatherland.
16.
The sky turned black on Easter Sunday The sun faded away Rushing water poured down from a black sky The river overflowed over the train line My neighbor downriver owned a fishing boat that he took out sometimes He pulled down the tarp, joined up on the rescue line He followed all the boats down into Tintown All the lines of telegraph were washed out Powerlines and bridges swayed, swayed, were swept away The canal eroded down to bits of murky, muddy clay Rushing water swept down through the valley Rushing water poured down through the alleys The flour mill whistle rang/ you could hear it for miles away/ 15 miles or more They worked for 5 straight hours/ carrying bags of flour/ up to the 2nd floor I saw a hen house floating too/ with a rooster on the roof/ feathers brown with clay And the sky finally cleared up/ the rain slowly died away/ slowly died away And what was left of the canal was washed right out of town/ the end of the river days I lived on the river on a small island of mud and thatch The people in the county called me River Rat Stranded people, parents, sons and daughters I helped the people get across the water
17.
I was only 19, following a jet stream January wind chill, driving down the Big Trail Driving down the Big Trail Going for a short drive, following a tree line Hugging every guardrail; riding on the Big Trail Riding on the Big Trail Moving through the old towns; rolling wild and north bound Factories and tall tales; all along the Big Trail All along the Big Trail Wild horses, mine shafts; parties on the warpath Listen to the drums pound, all across these coal grounds Picks and shovels, TNT, rifles at the ready Hard hand on a steam drill; working on the Big Trail Working on the Big Trail Rolling down the highway, coming up on midday Just over the hillside, over where my (hands caught fire…

about

It is the brisk fall of 2023. I attend a Sunday service at the replicated Schoenbrunn village church. We sit on simple wooden benches, the room lit only by candles and a fire in the hearth. There is a picture of Thomas on the wall, eyes wide, tracing the wound in the side of Christ. A word from James. A word from Isaiah.

“Let your heart be broken”.

For the past ten or so years, I have been writing and recording a batch of songs that are in the finalization process, and center around the very grounds and history that I, appropriately, find myself basking in on this cold morning. I have been visiting with David Zeisberger and his mission train, watching the contours this county take shape, placing myself in the camps and trails and burgeoning towns growing along the Tuscarawas River.

These ballads, this record, tells the story of Tuscarawas County. It tells the story of the Moravian missionaries—and eventually the Zoar separatists—who came to give and to receive salvation. It tells the story of the canal, the railroad, and the great flood that wiped them out. It tells of our triumphs and our failures.

The story, as told here, is incomplete. There is still much to say and much to sing about. There is the Delaware, the Lenape, the first peoples. There are the heroes who rose up, who carried our story along, and the scoundrels who emerged from our ranks. For the time being we will call this, “The Big Trail”, volume one of the story.

Suddenly, there is the roar of a truck, speeding by on the road just outside of Schoenbrunn, and I am whipped back to the present day, New Philadelphia, the gulf between the present and that distant path.

I will take a breath. I will pause. And I will hopefully return and listen for more voices speaking out in the misty fog that rolls off the Tuscarawas River.

Brother Joshua, 2023

credits

released January 19, 2024

Produced by Josh Compton w Coby Hartzler
Engineered, mixed & mastered by Coby Hartzler at Hi/Lo Studio
Art by Josh Compton

Songs 5, 9, 15 & 20 by Nicolaus Ludwig & Graf von Zinzendorf, translated by Jane Borthwick
Songs 13 & 18 traditional with lyrics attributed to C.A. Sneary. Melody and arrangement based on “John Funston” in Stories from the Anne Grimes Collection of American Folk Music

1. Silver Frost
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar, harmonica
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano, ambient sounds
2. Fifty Steps
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano
Joey Weaver: drums
3. Bouquet’s March
Josh Compton: writing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano, ambient sounds
4. Schoenbrunn Song
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording
Joey Kurtz: guitar, recording
5. Jesus, Still Lead On
Kathy McCaulley: dulcimer, arrangement
Coby Hartzler: recording, ambient sounds
6. He Walked the Forbidden Trail
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar, harmonica
Coby Hartzler: recording, xylophone, piano
Joey Weaver: drums
7. Gnadenhutten
Josh Compton: recording
8. O’ Goshen
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar, harmonica
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano
9. Jesus, Still Lead On
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano, guitar
10. Picks & Shovels (w the Kodachrome Babies)
Josh Compton: writing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, percussion
Hannah Hubbard: vocals
Mallory Gerstacker: vocals
11. Garden of Separatists
Josh Compton: writing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano
12. The Iron Horse is Coming!
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar, harmonica
Coby Hartzler: recording
Joe Kurtz: guitar, recording
Matt Kurtz: drums, percussion, recording
13. John Funston
Kathy McCaulley: dulcimer, arrangement
Coby Hartzler: recording
Josh Compton: arrangement
14. Roll, River
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, guitar, keys, ambient sounds
Anya Antonavich: vocals, recording
15. Jesus, Still Lead On
Josh Compton: singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording
16. The Flood of 1913
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano, guitar, ambient sounds
17. The Big Trail
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano, percussion

Bonus Tracks
18. John Funston
Josh Compton: singing, guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording
19. Heckewelder’s Ride
Josh Compton: writing, singing, guitar
John Wallace: spoken word
Coby Hartzler: recording, piano
20. Jesus, Still Lead On
Josh Compton: singing guitar
Coby Hartzler: recording

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