337

THE PIONEER MIMIC.

     Mill-raisings, house-warmings, corn-huskings, and all such public gatherings and working-bees would be stale and unattractive without some one to take the lead as the genuine fun producer. After all, the public enjoyment of the multitude, to a very great extent, is dependent on a few persons who are especially adapted to take the lead in joking and mimicry; and on this occasion, of the Owens mill-raising, it appears that such comic characters were sufficiently numerous to secure a jolly time for all.

     One of those who most materially enhanced the interest and enjoyment of this occasion was "Deaf Jim" Wright, the star mimic of the entire settlement, who was present in highest glee, and in the best of trim for the ludicrous imitation and ridicule of any appropriate characters whom he might undertake to personify.

     A graphic description of the role "Deaf Jim" there played, and other items regarding the proprietors of said mill, and their career here, is given by Mr. Greene, in the Dallas County News, from which we quote as follows:

     " 'Deaf Jim' was a model citizen, and though one principal avenue between the outer world and his brain was quite closed, still his perceptions, intellectual and moral, were exceptionably quick and his judgment good. His powers of mimicry and imitation were a constant surprise, and would have made the fortune of a stage actor. Scarce a man of his acquaintance but he could so accurately personate that the subject would be readily recognized. Steve Scovell, with his head thrown back, his lips pursed up, protruded, and puffing the vacant air—one hand complacently stroking his beard, the other his capacious stomach. Judge Burns—so quietly rolling and caressing his hands, while smiling a smile so child-like and bland.' And the gallant young swell—mincing and prancing by the side of his girl, and indignantly throwing away the soiled and offensive pocket handkerchief (after wiping his mouth with it), that some envious scamp had stealthily stuck into his pocket, and many more—all were 'painted lively as the deed was done.' But his masterpiece was 'Yankee Smith.'

     "When, in 1847 and 1848, Smith and Owens were building their saw and grist mills on South 'Coon, near the mouth of Cottonwood, nearly all the able-bodied men in the county volunteered many days to forward the much needed work. 'Deaf Jim' was there to lend a helping hand. A hired man, with a cart and oxen belonging to Smith, was hauling earth to build the dam, and dumping it off a bank some 12 feet high. He awkwardly backed cart and oxen off into the river. Smith was a tall, bony; restless, passionate, irrepressible yankee, over 70 years of age. Imagine him trying to 'work off' the effects of such a disaster! Coatless and hatless, his long gray hairs literally on end, his bony arms beating the air in impotent rage. 'Tis said he did full justice to his subject. Deaf Jim was deeply impressed--the violent gestures he could give in full; and though he could not understand the full force of the expletives, he seemed aware that they were not wanting, for when reproducing the scene he would utter the most fearful howls, but they cannot be transferred to paper. On witnessing this

338

exhibition one could see clearly what Shakspeare means by 'tear passion to tatters—to very rags.'

     "The Smith and Owens mills being built upon the sand, when the rains descended, the floods came and swept them wholly away, ruining the proprietors, and discouraging our people sadly. Smith went to stay with his son in Missouri, where he died shortly after, of small-pox. After hearing of his decease, 'Deaf Jim' could not be prevailed upon to personate 'Yankee Smith.'

     "Henry Owens was a gentleman in the best sense of the term, His fair natural abilities were supplemented by considerable culture, and his frank genial manners made him a general favorite. After the destruction of his mills he went to California in quest of gold, He had an interesting family--one son, William, accompanied him to California, and afterward went to Oregon. Mrs. Owens and her two daughters, twelve and fifteen years of age, remained in Dallas, and during the summer of 1850 the girls boarded at W. W, Miller's, and attended a school near by, taught by a young lady hired by Miller.

     "After some three years H. Owens returned from California, and ran for member of the Iowa Legislature against Dr. E. Van Fossen. But the young republican party, led by Grimes, was irresistible, and Owens, with nearly all democrats (for the first time in Iowa), had to take back seats."

     Judge L. D. Burns, also, in his Centennial History of the county, relates several interesting incidents as occurring during the year 1848, which we .herein present, as follows:

Return to top

A CABIN-RAISING.

     "In the year of grace, 1848, the cabin of a new-comer was to be 'raised.' Invitations to help had been given to all the settlers near-and there were not many-and to bring along with them the wife and children, which was the prevailing idea in those days of mobilized homogenousness [homogeneousness] and perennial philanthropy and singleness of heart.

     "We had the honor to be included among the favored number to whom the invitation had been extended, and we set out pretty early for the seat of the cabin, and as early as we were we found on our arrival on the ground that a few had preceded us, while others were still coming in, whistling merry bouts of a quaint old roundelay.

     "The work of rearing the cabin had cheerfully begun, good humor, fun and facetioe abounded.

     "The cabin was, in fact, pretty well on the way, when a well dressed stranger suddenly appeared in our midst. He was gentlemanly and colloquial, and curiosity ran high to know who on earth this comely stranger could possibly be, so that the anxious interrogatory went from lip to lip, 'who is he?'

     "This anxiety, however, was soon allayed by the stranger himself announcing his name to be 'Ira Sherman, from York State.' He was looking around for a good sheep range, where he thought of locating himself for all time to come, and would be pleased to know 'if anyone present' could point out to him such a place.

    "Many localities were soon mentioned, not far away, as being just the very place for wool-growing, and as many persons confidently advised the wool-grower, by all means, to look at them.

339

     "Just here our old irrepressible friend, James V. Pierce, who had been hitherto a quiet listener, and for whom the cabin was being raised, interposed, and in his inimitable manner put this leading question to the urbane wool-grower:

     " 'Mr. Shorsmans, how many sheops do you prepoas to spread out on thoas big prarees, mistow_' The wool-grower promptly replied, without a ripple of emotion on his placid countenance, 'Well, sir, some ten or twelve thousand.' This cool enuncication [enunciation] quickened the ears of the credulous settlers, and very soon they became so deeply interested in the colloquy between Pierce and the wool-grower that the work on the cabin ceased, and those who were running up the corners came down and, with itching ears, had swept around in concentric circles, inclosing Pierce and the wool-grower in the center. The settlers were astonished and were pretty sure they saw in the blanched, smooth, fun face of the wool-grower, ample evidence that 'bun' or 'bear' from Wan street, mayhap a millionaire, was present, who had, in all probability, cloyed and sickened on the veneered and varnished civilities of artificial life on 'Fifth Avenue,' to escape which he 'had come away out West to grow wool, to romp over these interminable prairies, to inhale the rejuvenescent air of youthful, vigorous, and joyous Iowa, in order to renew wasted energies in the counting-rooms, and to grow fat and funny withal.

     "All the settlers were anxious indeed to have the amiable wool-grower for a neighbor, or at any rate to have him settle in the neighborhood somewhere, with his massive flock of sheep, to answer as a light-house to draw emigration hither. Among those in attendance on this interesting occasion was one 'Dutch Henry,' a masculine of Hessian extraction, whose paternal ancester had fought the colonies under General Heister, at the battle of Long Island. He was a lugubrious individual, of an awkward, physical contour, with an ugly yawning scar above his left eye, at right angles with his little terrapin nose—a late arrival, in our quiet little settlement, from the East, by way of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and had located a claim west of the river, near Perry.

      "Many wondered why Henry had strayed so far from the cordon of settlements, when equally as good a claim could have been had within.

     "Henry made rails, dug wells and made himself generally useful to the settlers in many ways, for which he was willing and even anxious to take in turn cows, calves, cattle, hogs, and even the notes of the parties desiring his services, on a long run, if they had nothing better to offer.

"Henry was, at the time of which we are speaking, making his home—when not under an engagement—with Squire Babb, who was by common consent the most distinguished individual in our settlement. The woolgrower seeing Dutch Henry, approached him with a smile and certainly thought he knew him, and in a pleasant; fraternal kind of a way remarked to him, 'It strikes me, sir, that I have seen you before; is not your name Henry Johns?'

     "Henry's legs now grew feeble and aberrant, and he stammered out in a miserable, guttural reply, 'Nix, my name ish not dot, he ish von Dutch Henri, all del' time, yaw.'

      " 'I beg pardon, Mr. Henry,' returned the wool-grower, and Henry rejoined, 'Dot ish gude,' and the matter was dropped.

     "Henry was taken suddenly ill, however, with violent intestinal pains, and being wholly unable to keep his feet, he spasmodically laid himself

340

carelessly, face down, in the tall grass, writhing with bolting misery under the cool inviting shade of a compassionate elm near.

     "Here Henry lay until night-fall, meanwhile refusing the most toothsome dishes offered by the good woman in attendance, and growing no better, the while, under the most approved palliatives of the neighborhood administered to him by fair hands.

     "Squire Babb now pressed the, gushing wool-grower to accept the hospitalities of his bountiful and cheery cabin, nestled among the tall sugar maples of North Raccoon, for the night.

     "The wool-grower gladly accepted the invitation and went home with the Squire.

     "A little later Dutch Henry, too, came reluctantly in. He was a little better, but still robust and incessant pains were holding a high carnival in his celiac region and beckoning him on, without pity, to the grave. Henry, fairly seated, was not long, however, in ascertaining the fact that the woolgrower was a guest of Squire Babb. He straightway grew rapidly worse, his reason realed [reeled?], his breath grew short and hurried, and the poor man rushed out zig-zag in great haste to take the open air, and if possible, to live unattended.

     "He wandered away and was never seen in the settlement afterward, leaving behind him claim, cows, calves, everything, which things were never afterward called for.

     "After Henry had acted so strangely and disappeared so mysteriously, the wool-grower bethought himself, and upon reflection, claimed to have recognized in Dutch Henry the identical Henry Johns, whom he had taken him to be on first sight, who had, some years before, broken into a farm house near Beaver, Pennsylvania, and had stolen therefrom some six or eight hundred dollars, and had made good his escape.

     "Time rolls on and full twenty-two years after this cabin had been reared, we were traveling in Kansas, in a wagon a la mode. Night coming on we went into camp some twelve miles north of Fort Scott. We had been in camp but a little time when a lean, lank, miserly looking individual came striding up to our camp fire and saluted us in a peculiar brogue, that we at once recognized. He 'asked us if we had seen a party, that he described as being runaways, having in charge a span of horses belonging to himself.

     "We replied that we had not. He then wished us to keep a sharp look out for the delinquents, and if we should hear of the 'barties' to write him.

     "We promised to do so, and ventured to suggest to him the propriety of our knowing his name and address in order to be enabled to comply with his reasonable demand.

     "He replied instantly 'Dutch Henri, send de ledders to Fort Scott, Kansas.' Well, well, before us stood the selfsame Dutch Henry, with the identical scar on his apathetic brow that we had so often looked at in years agone, and wondered how it got there, The very same Dutch Henry that had suffered so terribly on the day and the night after the cabin aforesaid was reared.

     "We did not make ourselves known, nor did he seem to have any knowledge of us. He got the better of us in the price of a feed of corn for our horses. We overpaid him, and he promised to return the surplus before we set out in the morning, but alas, he had left early while it was yet dark, on business some twelve miles away, and we never saw him afterward."

Return to top

341

A PIONEER COURTSHIP.

     The following is by the same writer:

     "In the spring of 1848 we were busily engaged in planting corn in our little field nestled in the woods, our little woman going before, and with dextrous precision, was measuring out to every hill its exact quota of seed, while we, hoe in hand, was baptizing them in the virgin soil abaft. These were among the happy days of our life's journey. Suddenly we heard a strong grating voice ringing out upon the air from our rear, saying' neighbor, what will you take to leave this place and let me come in?'

"We looked around, and saw a man on horseback in the road (that passed around or cabin) at a stand. We replied 'one thousand dollars, sir.' The stranger rejoined: 'Cheap enough, sir, cheap enough. I'm looking around for a claim' here somewhere. It's the first time I've been down here. This is a nice grove; a little paradise here, and I'd like the mate to it. You had art to be satisfied.'

     "We replied we were pretty well pleased with our location, all things considered, and did not care to look further; but would do so for the amount named.' You might do worse, sir: a good 'eal worse.'

     " 'How long have you been here, neighbor?' 'Since last fall,' we replied. , Then you have been working, I see.' 'Yes, we have been pretty busy.' 'How many settlers are there here?'

     " 'Four of us, all told; others, we are told, will be here soon, from below.' 'What may I call your name, sir?' We gave him our name, and, in turn, we asked his. 'My name, sir, is Adam Vineage, the world over. I've stopped on the prairie, a little way above here, until I can find a claim that suits me; then I'm going to work in earnest to build a cabin; to break up some prairie, and put in some sod-corn to run me through the winter. It isn't business to buy corn and haul it a long ways, when we can raise it right here just as easy as you can in any place in the world. It's warm isn't it? I'm sweatin' for all's out, just a ridin' along. Call round, neighbor, when we get settled down, and git acquinted. Bring your wife and children along. That's the way I like to see it done. Good-bye, sir, and don't work too hard.'

     "Adam Vineage was a mass of muscles, and he had but few equals in this respect anywhere. He was a good neighbor, and a most devoted friend, and would fight the 'old scratch' on time, were he to 'cross his path.' He loved fun, and was a wag of the very first water.

     "Adam soon found a claim (the place now occupied by W. R. Kimry), and went to work sure enough, and was getting things in a good shape, when, alas, Mrs. Vineage sickened and died suddenly in July of that year, This was the first death in what is now Sugar Grove township.

     "Hers was the first burial in what is known as the Kimry grave-yard. The coffin was made of an old wagon box, the very best that could be done at that time.

     "Mrs., Vineage was a woman of good intellect, with a teeming philanthropy that went out in a strong tangible current for the good of all the world.

     "Her death was a terrible blow on Adam, and his activity in building up a home and farm on the wild lands he had taken was greatly abridged by the constant care demanded by the brood of little chicks left to his sole charge by the untimely death of their dear mother. He was, however,

342

equal to the task, and battled on cheerfully and bravely for better days to come.

     "Things went on in this way for many months, and Adam finally began to meditate seriously upon his isolated condition, and upon a way to remedy this state of things. The neighbors urged him on to make up his cheerless, clouded cabin with the gushing rays and merry song of a second wife.

     "Adam was cajoled into activity, and very soon after began to tune up his long unstrung voice and to sing pathetically in his lonely, hapless hours at nightfall, after the toils of the day were over and the evening shades had brought sadness and ennui to his heart, imprimis:

" 'There's naught but care on every hand,
In every hour that passes, O;
What signifies the life O' man,
An' there's na for the lasses, 0.'

     "The settlements had spread since Adam had built his cabin in our midst, and in the family of a new-comer there was an active, sprightly, good looking girl of some seventeen summers, in whose welfare Adam took a lively interest.

     "He was no niggard in love; but was, forsooth, ardent, bountiful, irrepressible, and played the role of a youthful lover with a masterly hand.

     "He would sing to her tenderly and cooingly, while Bessie lightly paced the floor to the music of her spinning wheel, the following trenchant ditty:

" 'Wilt thou be my dearie?
When sorrow wring's thy gentle heart,
Wilt thou let me cheer thee?
Be the treasure of my soul? '

     "She only replied that she 'could not see the point,' and was shy and provokingly distrustful, while he was importunate and played a hand that deserved success.

     "Adam could jump further, bound higher, come down easier, carry a bigger load of' coon-timber,' somersault more gracefully, prestidigitate more wonderfully and acrobat more originally by far, than any young man in the settlement. Yet, strange to say, in the face of all these personal charms and allurements, the girl was coy and frigidly irresponsive.

      "Adam, seeing that beauty, muscle, manhood and bon-ton were about to fail him, like a general in extremity, changed his tactics.

     "Vineage had resources, and his keen, practical business eye suggested to him the potency of hard money.

     "It had done wonders in legislations, on the bench and in the pulpit, to say nothing of the wonders of its creation in social life, and he availed himself of its influence in the further prosecution of his suit.

      "Vineage was suddenly called to Oskaloosa on important private business of a very pressing character, regretting to go very much indeed, and would be gone, the 'Lord only knew how long.' In this sudden emergency Vineage called on Squire Babb, took him aside, and with great diffidence and delicacy confided to him a secret:

      " 'Squire Babb,' says he in a whisper, 'I'm going down to Oskaloosa on very important private business; don't know when I'll be back; may never get back; life's uncertain, you know, and as you are the only man in all the world I'd trust in this business I'll now say to yon that I've—that I've

343

a large box of gold coin locked up and made fast 'gin the pryin' eyes of the curious, that I want to put into your dear hands for safe keepin' ti1l my return, and should I never return it's yours.'

     '" Squire Babb, my means are ample, and my family are otherwise well provided for. Now, I shall ask you to keep this whole matter a profound secret, locked up in your own manly bosom, I'd be truly sorry to think I'd been the means of bringing trouble and perhaps death upon my dearest and most valued friend, which might be the result should it become publicly known that you, Squire Babb, had in your care such a pile of gold.'

     "The Squire was fairly overcome with gratitude for the honor done him, and thanked Vineage again and again, 'Tomorrow morning early, Squire Babb,' continued Vineage, 'I'll hitch up my team and bring down the box of gold, Have Mrs. Babb go a visiting, and see that Jack is a-fishing. Will you promise me this, Squire Babb?'

     " 'I wi1l, I will,' answered the Squire.

     "Adam now returns home in great glee at his success thus far. Morning came.

     " 'The birds sang love on every spray.'

     "Adam hooked up his team and drove rapidly to the cabin of Squire Babb, with the box containing the precious metal. On his arrival he found the Squire alone, as he had promised, and ready to greet him.

     "Hastily the money-box was lifted out of the wagon, with difficulty, from its great weight, and carried, gravely as death, into the cellar under the floor of the cabin of the magnanimous Squire, and was, with as little ceremony as possible, buried away down in the stolid subsoil, there to await, unmolested, the precarious return of the assiduous Adam from Oskaloosa.

     "Adam now drove rapidly back home, and soon after set out for Oskaloosa on his important private business.

     "But a few days after Adam had gone his bosom friend, Squire Babb, gave us, as was usual, a friendly call, and left us a choice cut of venison taken the day previous, for which we thanked him and were grateful. As the Squire was about to depart he took us aside and very confidentially gave us the whole story of the 'money-chest,' as here detailed.

      " We congratulated him on the reception of such a high honor, and the Squire bid us adieu.

     "Two weeks after this confidential interview the Squire gave us another friendly call and also another fat cut of luscious venison, for which we were again very thankful. Again he took us aside and spoke of the confidential 'money-chest'; said that 'he had resurrected it honestly out of mere curiosity, you know, with no intention whatever of purloining any part of its precious contents, and had, with much difficulty, opened it and found, to his great surprise and indignation, that the whole thing was a cruel sell; that instead of being filled with glittering gold—as he had ever y reason to believe—it was, on the contrary, filled to the lid with the basest bits of broken pots, old iron, in fine, the odds and ends the like of which may be found laying loose about every farm house in the land. 'Here the good old Squire rested with a sigh, and lapsed into an expressive silence.

     "His pride of character had received a terrible blow. We commiserated him and we parted.

     "The story got out (the Squire never knew just how) that the puissant

344

lover had a great, big box of gold coin. Meanwhile Vineage returned from Oskaloosa to scan the field, and to make some reckonings, from his matrimonial law-book, for the good time ahead. The saucy girl had heard of the 'box of gold,' but still her heart did not bound toward her lover. The bird would not yet sing in her heart.

     "She was stiff-necked, obdurate and unemotional, and refused point-blank to be wooed and won.

     "Our lover was whipped and quit the field in disgust. The 'money-chest' was called in and there was peace in this department of the realms of cupid for many months.

     "The lover never knew that the real contents of the mysterious box was known to the Squire.

     "The Squire dare not mention his discovery to the lover, so the matter stood and still stands. All was quiet, but it had a terrible effect on the Squire. He never fairly got over it, and it was the means of hastening him away.

     "The Squire left here soon after, and the lover followed a few years later. All the parties to this little affair have long since crossed the river."

Return to top

A PIONEER DOCTOR.

     Doctors were rather scarce in these parts in those days, and, as a general thing, people did their own doctoring, or some handy, accommodating persons in the neighborhood, who had, perhaps, learned from wider experience a little more of the common ailments of the human system, as also of the most natural relief from them, stood always ready to give the benefit of their superior knowledge and timely advice, without cost, to all the afflicted ones in the vicinity who might call for their aid.

     In this way people got along very comfortably for sometime without any doctor in their midst. But they, too, came along in due time and soon became plentiful as need be.

     Among the first who came was Dr. Henderson, who is thus described by Judge Burns:

      "No history of the early settlement of this county would be complete without mention of the eccentric Dr. Henderson, who made his advent here in the spring of 1848. We had become well acquainted with the doctor in the State of Illinois, where we had last lived prior to our coming to Iowa.

     "Henderson was a Pennsylvanian and had graduated at the Philadelphia Medical School with highest honors. His parents, who were in affluent circumstances, lavished their means to educate, fit and prepare an only son for the highest walks in life. His intellectual power had wonderful compass. And such a retentive memory we have never known.

     "He was a critical master of more than a baker's dozen languages, and was a physician of the very first water.

     "But in all things said or done by him he portrayed the same eccentric and peculiar original.

     "When called to the bedside of the sick he would approach the patient in the most dignified manner, reach for the arm and feel for the pulse, throw his head back so as to bring his face on a parallel with the ceiling above, his eyes trembling in their sockets meanwhile, like the flying jib-boom of a vessel laboring in a gale. Soon his head would assume its natu-

345

ral plane, and a moment after he would say to the patient, 'stick out your tongue, sir.' The patient complying, he would gaze upon it for a moment and say in an imperious tone and manner, if the case was serious and would probably result in the death of the patient, 'Well, sir, you're sick, very sick, sir, and if you have any prayers to make be about it, sir, at once. There is no use of me nauseating your stomach with a prescription that can do no good. You must die, sir, and if you have a will to make, make it. Don't be deluded by a fallacious hope that you will live, or even grow better. You will do neither.

     " 'Still, sir, if you have money to spare foolishly, I am willing to watch by your bedside and smooth your pathway to the grave as best I can, sir.

     " 'I will charge you $20 for this interview. But, sir, if the money is forthcoming now $10 will pay the bill. I await your answer, sir.

     "A pause, the money is paid, the doctor looks it over carefully and says, 'Do you wish my professional services longer?'

     " 'Gu--ess not,' is the response, and the doctor moves carefully out, and the patient, sure enough, dies, as the doctor had predicted.

     "As an advocate he had no superiors anywhere (having graduated at a distinguished law school).

     "His volubility of tongue was marvelous. But with all these varied powers of mind, they failed to make a man of him, and he floated recklessly down the stream of life, without a point of concentration in view, and was thrown into its eddies to be lost among the drift of poor humanity. He remained here less than a year, to lodge somewhere else, only to stay a brief period, and then on, and on, and on to the end."

     Of course the above described personage, with all his eccentricities, was by no means a true specimen of all pioneer doctors; nor a fitting type of the many able and most worthy members of that profession who succeeded him as citizens and practitioners in this county. For Dallas county can proudly and deservedly boast of affording physicians and surgeons who stand in the very first ranks of the medical and surgical professions in the West.

Return to top

A FRUITFUL YEAR.

     The year 1848, generally, was a fruitful, prosperous one for the county. Careful preparation and faithful efforts had been made, during this and the previous year, by almost everyone present, for securing a crop for the harvest of this year, which would be at least sufficient to supply all the settlers and their now increasing stock with all the essentials of living, and, if possible, have some to spare for those coming in, so that the community would be supplied with breadstuffs and common home products; without going so far from the settlements to secure these necessaries at high prices and with great difficulty of transporting.

     For this faithful labor and careful preparation the settlers were bountifully and almost universally rewarded with a fruitful harvest, and with an excellent quality of grain and other products raised.

     This was, of course, a great source of encouragement as well as comfort to those in this new country, and gave them sufficient assurance that they could very readily be able not only to comfortably support themselves, but could raise quite a surplus to sell to the new-comers for cash with which to

346

purchase the groceries, clothing and other essential articles for family use and farm improvements.

     By this means, also, emigration was encouraged and greatly increased, which brought in more or less money, created a demand for more and more supplies such as could be raised abundantly by any and every settler, increased the number of settlements and made quite an extensive and encouraging home market for the surplus of all that was raised Thus the work progressed with eminent satisfaction to all concerned, and made the early settlers feel that the day was not far distant when they would not be more dependent upon their old neighbors further east, than those who were settling the lands further west on the Missouri slope were dependent on them, and when Dallas would be proudly numbered with the older counties of the State.

     During this year (1848) the population of the county was more than doubled, and the amount of cultivation and improvement was more than trebbled, greatly increasing the convenience and comfort of the settlers. Milling privileges were becoming much more numerous and near. at hand, Small stocks of goods, consisting of the essential commodities, were being brought in, and pioneer stores or common supply posts were beginning to be established right at home, Schools and church privileges were being talked of, and the necessary steps taken to secure them in due time, and, taking it all together, the year 1848 was one of the eventful years in the early settlement and history of Dallas county.

Return to top

A HARD WINTER.

     It was fortunate indeed that the harvest of 1848 was so bountiful, and the general advancement in improvement so great, for the winter which followed was a fearful one, and brought one of the heaviest snow storms that ever has been known here, Without the preparation and plentiful product of the past year, that winter would have been the sad occasion of a great deal of suffering in these parts and all along the frontier.

      The snow commenced falling the seventh of November, before the ground had become frozen, covering the earth with a heavy coat of white, and continued at a depth of nearly three feet on the ground until toward the last of the following February, It came in heavy driving storms, after intervals of a few days cessation off and on, all winter, often coming with such driving, drifting force as to render it impossible for the settlers to venture out or get from place to place without danger of being lost or frozen to death.

     There being yet comparatively few settlers in the county, and not a great deal of marketing to be done, or foreign trading to be transacted, travel was not sufficient to keep the ways opened or form a beaten track in any direction

     And if anyone found it necessary to venture out any distance from home, the driving winds on these great unobstructed prairies only filled up his tracks with the drifting snow almost as fast as he made them, so he was unable to follow the same track in return.

     The inhabitants of the pioneer cabins were completely snow-bound all winter, never venturing out only in cases of absolute necessity, and then it was at the peril of their lives, or at least of frosted ears and toes, especially if they had any great distance to go.

     It afforded splendid opportunities for enjoying the inestimable blessings of home life to those who were fortunately favored with any such earthly

347

luxuries, but to those who were not thus favored it was certainly a terrible winter,

     It was no unusual thing to make several unsuccessful attempts, through desperate blockades of snow-drifts, in order to reach a mill with a few bushels of corn as a load.

     Many still relate with delight—and yet with an air of triumph and astonishment at having endured such trials—how that they have made three or four such vain attempts successively to carry off a grist or haul a load of corn from another neighborhood, but each time became so overwhelmed in the snow-drifts that they found it impossible to go further on their errand, and were compelled to dig their way out of the drifts, and retrace their tracks back as best they could to their humble cabins, which were nearly covered in the drifts, and scarcely visible to the wandering traveler at any great distance from home.

     The settlers generally aimed to take advantage of the milder weather to go to mill, and get their extra provisions and mail matter, and other necessary errands, always clubbing together as much as possible on such occasions, and allowing the stronger, hardier ones, who were the best fitted, and, perhaps, the most delighted, to undertake such an excursion, to go on these distant errands for the neighborhood, while the more feeble and dependent ones remained to take care of matters at home.

     This all worked very well, with comparative comfort and satisfaction to those who had been fortunate in raising a crop during the past summer, and exercised forethought and precaution enough to lay in a supply ahead during the better days to serve them through the stormy, blustering weather.

     And though the heavy snow banks did block them in from getting to mill for several weeks, they could live at home in comparative happiness and contentment, on their abundance of boiled corn and hominy, or exercise their genius and skill in trying to invent some new plan of grinding or grating their corn, and preparing their home products for a palatable diet. But for those new-comers, who had arrived late in the fall, and especially for those who had come in just before the heavy fall of snow came, so that they had no time or opportunity for making preparation for the approaching storm and cold weather, this winter was a most terrible and gloomy one.

     They could not get away any distance to supply themselves with corn or any of the necessaries of comfortable living, on account of the heavy snow and driving winds, and as a general thing they had no great supply of these things on hand. Their only hope and relief in this extremity was to depend on their generous and more fortunate neighbors, who had been here long enough to have raised and harvested a crop, both for supplies for their families and their stock.

     And in all such appeals in cases of emergency, those seeking aid and relief, seldom, if ever, failed to have their requests granted, abundantly, with cheerfulness on the part of their more favored neighbors, and most generally without remuneration.

     One of the greatest difficulties and severest trials these new-comers had to undergo during that hard winter was that of procuring the necessary food and shelter for their stock which they had brought along with which to make a comfortable commencement on improvement during the coming year. This stock necessarily suffered a great deal during the cold and

348

stormy weather from want of sufficient food and shelter, and much of it died from hunger and constant exposure, causing serious loss and inconvenience to the owners.

     In the absence of hay, corn, stalk-fields and straw-piles in this extremity the settlers were obliged to cut down linn and elm trees in the most convenient and sheltered places, from the tops and branches of which the hungry stock could browse, as a substitute for the more nutritious food, and behind whose bushy tops the poor animals could find a partial shelter from the chilling winter winds. In this way many of the settlers who came in late succeeded in bringing the most of their stock through the hard winter, but could not have endured the siege much longer, as they found in the spring that there was not much more vitality and locomotive power than was absolutely necessary on the part of these dumb brutes to enable them to get around and graze upon the new grass sufficiently to recruit their diminished strength and wasted bodies.

     Even many of those who had been here for a longer time, having prepared, in the summer and fall, what they supposed would be sufficient fodder for their stock through an average winter, and not looking for such a fearful siege of snow and storm, were glad to resort to the browsing system also, and cut down trees plentifully near their stock yards, in order that the animals might fill up on the twigs and branches, and thus get along on a smaller quantity of the prepared fodder, lest the supply should fail before spring set in. Many such ingenious plans were resorted to in these cases of necessity in order to "winter through."

     From all accounts of those who were compelled to endure it on the frontier, it was certainly a desperate winter, thoroughly fitted to try the hearts and test the powers of endurance of those who were obliged to battle with the trials of pioneer life in the West.

     Such a winter corning even now, when people are thoroughly fixed for it, with fine houses and barns, and food and shelter for man and beast, and with all the conveniences and comforts and provisions that could reasonably be desired, would be considered as a "stormer," which must cause destitution and suffering on the part of very many. No wonder, then, that the early settlers still living, who endured it here with meager preparations, ever remember and refer to it as the "hard winter of 1848-49."

Return to top