Yesterday : a chronicle of early life in the West

Contents

Chapter Page

Preface . 7

I. The Call of the West 9

Preface

A side from the productions of writers of L\ established reputation whose works com- -** -^ mand a sale without much regard to their real merit, it is safe to say that most of the books which flood the market today are written with the hope of achieving a reputation and thereby earning a livelihood in the literary field, by catering to the popular taste,- which unfortunately is not of the highest order, in its demand for current literature.

Let it be said at the outset that neither of these objects inspired the writing of this little volume, a simple chronicle of pioneer life in the West, extending through but one decade in the early years of a long and eventful life.

Nevertheless, it has an object, or it would not have been written. What that object may be will become apparent to the reader whose thoughts are not wholly absorbed in the trivial pursuit of the pleasures of this world.

It is to that class of readers that this book is affectionately dedicated by

THE AUTHOR.

YESTERDAY

Chapter I

Why should you want to give the cow tea?" Father was sitting by the great log fire, his teeth chattering, and shaking from head to foot. He was always a little flighty when his "spell" came on — an event which occurred as regularly as clock-work every other day in the week.

It was nothing alarming — only the old-fashioned shaking ague, the prevailing malady common to the breaking up of the virgin soil of a new country. Nobody thought much about it. Everybody had it sometime, or, if they did not, everybody expected it, and sooner or later they got what was coming to them.

So it was that father, with his fine English constitution and his temperate habits, which should have been proof against sickness of any kind, must needs fall under the evil spell of what was commonly termed "the shakes," and here was winter setting in, with its white blanket of snow piled up against our little rude log house, and there was the wood to be chopped, the corn to be husked and stored away in the crib, the cow to be milked and the pigs to be fed, and nobody but sixteen-year-old John to attend to all of it. To be sure, there were Willie and Alfred, but Willie was but twelve and Alfred ten and they had small leisure outside of their studies during the winter term of the district school, at the cross roads, a mile distant.

What is it that brings all this to my mind, "far, far o'er the dream of years" (for I am eighty years old today), that funny little speech of father's, away back in the days of pioneer life on a Michigan farm in the early 40's, and I, a little kiddie of six years, sitting on the hearth and looking with wondering eyes at father's pale face and trembling hands as he uttered that irrelevant remark.

Something had been said about the cow by John as he came into the room staggering under an armful of wood encrusted with snow, and at the same time mother had made some remark about the tea being nearly out, and that when the next journey was made to the village with the ox team it would be necessary to purchase a quarter of a pound of that precious article, the only luxury that could be counted in our simple fare, and that only for mother; for father would say that so long as we had potatoes and corn meal in the house none of us would starve, but mother must have her tea.

And thus it was that in my child mind, which was absorbing every little incident that made up the sum of a day's doings, I succeeded, perhaps with the aid of one of my brothers, in putting together some explanation of my father's odd question.

It was the cow, and then the tea. Why, of course. Who would think of giving a cow tea, when it cost a dollar and a half a pound, and was carefully preserved in a tightly covered little japanned canister, to be sparingly used, a little pinch at a time, just enough for mother's cup?

Then, too, cows are not noted as tea drinkers. Like all our domestic animals, they are strictly temperate, and even as mild a beverage as tea, "the cup that cheers but not inebriates," would find little favor in the capacious maw of a cow that was more accustomed to bran mash or "shorts," which served as a choice dessert to their daily repast of corn husks, marsh hay and squash and pumpkin rinds that served for their winter fodder.

I don't think, however, that father's question was ever answered, if he thought of it a moment afterwards, but it always remained as a family reminiscence with us boys, to be called up among a host of old memories as time wore on, and we would meet together in long after-years at our annual reunions under the old rooftree, four serious middle-aged men, with our locks rapidly whitening under the frosts of time, as we gathered with our families around us and lovingly and tenderly drifted back into the sunny days of the past on the barren and stony little Michigan farm.

It was a long cry from the cozy, comfortable home in "Merrie England" to that wild western wilderness. Mother had often told us of that sad day when she stood on the deck of the ship that had set sail for the new world with her little brood around her, as the vessel drifted away from its moorings, gazing with strained eyes as she discerned through her tears the loved faces of father, mother, sister, brothers and friends, all bravely smiling and waving hats and handkerchiefs as the distance grew between them, until the mists had hid them from her sight, forever in this world; for as year after year passed by the fatal black-bordered message came to "poor Car." in her rude home in the far western wilds; first father, then mother, then brothers and friends, until at last there remained only the memory of the warm hearts and dear faces in the old English home.

It was father's restless spirit that had brought it about. The petty restraints that hedged about the unfortunate middle class, the wide chasm between the titled nobility and the struggling little shop keeper who could never hope to reach the goal of his ambition under laws that oppressed the poor and favored the rich, in a land where the sun never set and the tax gatherer never ceased in his vigilant rounds — all this was gall and wormwood to the proud, independent spirit of the talented and ambitious young Englishman, who panted for more freedom and the right to live his own life in a land that proclaimed freedom and equality to all, and where the daring climber was encouraged with the thought that there was always room at the top.

And then came the call of the new world, faintly at first but louder and louder still, until its pleading could no longer be resisted; and mother — was there ever such a mother? — loyal and true in her wifely devotion to the man of her choice, her first and only love, left all that was dear to her heart in the old world to follow him and his fortunes in the new and unknown land beyond the seas.

Two years of varying fortune in the city of New York, then a plunge into the far West, attracted by a brother who had settled there years before and was more or less seasoned to the rough and uncouth life in the wilderness. A long journey by slow stages, by canal, by lake, by the slow ox team through forest and swamp until finally their journey's end was reached.

Then came sickness and death, two beautiful boys following one after another into the misty shadows of the unknown world; then Carrie, the namesake, the sweet and companionable little girl of ten, and then the long and critical illness of the worn and grief-stricken mother, whose life hung for many days and nights by a slender thread, with faint hope from the crude and poisonous drugs administered by the little country doctor who made his daily rounds with horse and saddle bags, doing the best that he could with his limited knowledge of his art. But despite these handicaps a merciful Providence decreed that mother should live.

And so we come back to the cow, the tea and the ague.

In those primitive days there were but few specifics for the ills of the flesh, but among the curealls which were loudly proclaimed as an especially sure cure for fever and ague we may now name without danger of running a free ad for a patent medicine, a certain decoction that went by the name of Cologogue. It cost a dollar a bottle, and a dollar was not seen every day, and was hard to earn, where most of the necessary articles of life were procured in barter and trade; but father's health meant much more than the hard-earned dollar, and bottle after bottle found its way into our humble little home, until finally father really began to mend, whether the welcome change was due to the much vaunted nostrum, or his fine physique had finally overcome the accursed pestilence that drew its breath from the foul miasma that pervaded the air while the hardy pioneer lay helpless in its grasp — be that as it may, it was a joyful day that found father restored to health and back again in the woods and fields, making up for lost time by pushing the work of the farm with renewed vigor and energy.

CHAPTER II Early Days on the Farm

It was a busy little world, this farm life in the sparsely settled West. First the plowing, then the harrowing and the planting, then the cultivating, the hoeing and the weeding and patient watching during the long and anxious summer days and nights, and then the harvest; and with what bright hopes we looked forward to the golden months of autumn that brought to the farmer the reward of his toil in a rich store of pumpkins, squashes, beans, potatoes, corn and grain and fruit from the orchard for the winter store.

And the cutting of the grain, what a sight was that — three stalwart men standing ten feet apart with their "cradles," long, sharp scythes with their wooden fingers extended to catch the stalks of grain as it fell, as the mowers traversed up and down the fifty-acre field, cutting their broad swaths, and leaving the golden stalks in winrows, to be afterwards gathered up and stacked in the wagon rick and taken to the barn, to be stored until the threshers came.

And then the threshers — what bustle and preparation preceded their advent which was heralded days ahead, and mother in the kitchen from morning until night, baking bread, pies and cakes, with bushels of potatoes peeled and ready for cooking with the boiled beef, cabbage, beets, rutabagas and onions, all ready for the momentous day when twenty bronzed and hardy men would come up from the thresher at the sound of the dinner horn, and after a hasty plunge of the head in the tub of cool water and a rub with a coarse towel were ready to do justice to the substantial viands which were so abundantly provided and served by mother with the help of a kind neighbor and her buxom daughter, who generously gave their services to help out the poor little English woman who was "clean beat out" with her unusual labors, and gladly welcomed the honest faces and cheerful voices of her mile-distant neighbors.

The thresher was the wonder of the neighborhood in those days, and in the fresh, early morning of its arrival a group of us boys would gather at the barn and watch the preparations for the work. First came the horses, a half dozen spans attached to the circular frame with its revolving center and shafting that furnished the motive power; and then came the thresher, that great lumbering mechanism of wheels, cranks, and innumerable little parts within its body of brilliant red. And when all was ready and the work was really under way, with what wondering eyes we would watch, listening to the ceaseless tramp of the horses, combined with the terrific grinding noise of the machinery, as bundle after bundle of the golden sheaves was pitched from the barn loft into the constantly moving carrier, passing from thence through the thresher, throwing out the straw, which was being stacked as it fell, while at a wooden spout at the bottom of the far end of the machine was flowing the precious grain, pouring into the empty sacks that were being held ready for its reception.

About the same time with the harvest came the washing and shearing of the sheep, and following that the carding of the wool and flax, and then would be heard the whir of the busy spinning wheel and the ponderous rumble of the loom, where the raw material was being woven into the coarse but warm and durable fabric for clothing the men, women and children during the coming year.

Still another episode in farm life that heralded the approach of winter was the hog killing, where each neighbor helped the other, receiving for his compensation the usual quarter of meat; and later came the cutting up and pickling and the chopping of the meat for sausage — fine sport for the boys sitting astride the bench with knives and chopping bowl, and adding a lively accompaniment to the tune of Yankee Doodle. Simultaneously with that work came the making of the sausages, when father, seated beside a tub of finely-chopped meat properly seasoned with salt, pepper and sage, with a tin funnel shaped affair would press the meat into the skins attached to the tube, tying each section into links, which would later be hung in festoons across the smoke-blackened rafters of the ceiling of the large room, which served as a sleeping room at night, and a parlor, dining room and kitchen during the day ; and in the cold winter mornings while breakfast was being prepared father would take out his pocket knife and cut off a few savory links, which when cooked over the coals would furnish a substantial part of our morning meal.

The burning question of the high cost of living, which at this day is proving a constant source of anxiety to the prudent housewife, on whom rests the responsibility of providing the daily food for the family table, to say nothing of the anxious forethought of the paternal head of the household, whose purse is subject to daily calls for the wherewithal — -these matters never entered into the serious thoughts of the pioneer whose family never suffered for the lack of plain, wholesome food which furnished their daily repast. The nourishing corn meal, which was always on hand in abundance, when prepared and baked in the oven in the shape of "johnny-cake," or stirred into a pot of boiling water and made into corn meal mush, properly seasoned with salt and eaten with milk, was equal to a substantial meal when accompanied with homemade bread and butter, and a few of the snowwhite mealy potatoes baked in the hot ashes on the hearth.

About this time, and simultaneous with the soap boiling, which was mother's work, came the candle making, when the tallow had been tried out and was ready for the molding, and the candle molds borrowed from a neighbor for the occasion were brought into requisition — a succession of tin tubes soldered together, while in the center of each orifice was fastened at top and bottom the candle wick, and when the heated mass was poured into the molds and had become as hard as it was possible for a tallow candle to become it would then be removed from the molds and placed in a cool place, to be used for furnishing us with light during the long winter evenings.

Another interesting occupation with which the farmer was wont to fill in his leisure time during the winter was the cobbling. No household, however humble, was without its cobbler's kit, with its low bench, its shoe hammer, its awl, its box of wooden pegs, its wax ends and sole leather, with which the family boots and shoes were repaired. However substantial the coarse footwear of that day, constant usage would sooner or later begin its ravages on sole, heel and toe, and necessity had taught the farmer the crude art of cobbling, cutting the sole leather to fit the needed patch in the sole, and fastening it with wooden pegs, while the torn upper portion was deftly covered with softer leather and sewed with a large needle, wax ends and strong thread, and in this manner the boots and shoes were revamped and made to last through the winter; for the first days of the early spring would see us boys venturing out upon the frosty ground with bare feet, hardening them for the approaching spring and summer months, during which time the boys' and girls' feet were innocent of shoes, except on special "dress up" occasions, and the daily contact of bare feet with mother earth rendered us immune to all the little ills that have come upon us in our later day civilization.

One of the home industries, which furnished not only useful employment but brought together the young people of both sexes socially, was the braiding of straw for the plain, simple and durable hat for summer wear in the harvest fields and ordinary out-of-door farm life. A quantity of oat straws carefully selected would be cut into proper lengths for braiding, and a number of young boys and girls seated on the floor around the room would vie with each other in deftness and expertness in braiding and joining the short lengths into long strands, which were afterwards sewed together, forming first the brim of the hat, then curving upwards at a certain point until the crown was completed, which was shaped to a size that would fit the head of the prospective wearer. In the making of this rough head gear the particular style which is now considered so important an appendage in the make-up of the young society man was not thought of, the main consideration being the utility of the article rather than its artistic effect. Some time later was introduced into the market what was known as the "chip" hat, which could be purchased at the country store for a very small sum, which completely superseded the homemade article, the making of which had consumed many a happy hour in those primitive days when pennies were carefully counted and prudently laid aside to be expended only in the purchase of necessary articles which could not be manufactured in the home.

The skating season afforded a delightful recreation with which the farmer boy lightened the interval in the dreary and laborious round of winter farm work — the work of felling trees, splitting the timber with wedge and maul, then cutting it up into cord wood, to be loaded in the rude sled with its side stakes and hauled through the deep snow by the struggling oxen as they lunged forward from side to side, spreading out their awkward legs as they tugged at the load with strained eyeballs, slowly working their way through the unbroken road, urged on by the many "gees" and "haws" of the driver as he walked ahead with his goad.

But before indulging in the pastime of skating if the boy had no skates it was necessary to make them, which was quite a task, and evening after evening the boys would be found sitting before the fire fashioning their skates, with thick pieces of wood carefully whittled out and fashioned to the shape of the sole of the boot, curving in like the hull of a boat and narrowing down to the point that will come in contact with the ice, then a deep groove is cut, running the length of the skate, into which is neatly fitted a long sharp bone, perhaps the breast bone of a chicken or turkey, smoothed down to an even surface. A nail with a sharpened point is driven through the heel piece, which serves as a stay for the foot as it pierces the heel of the boot. The next operation consists of burning two holes from one side of the skate to the other, with a round piece of red-hot iron, and through these holes is passed small pieces of rope which are tied tightly over the toe and instep and around the heel, and then the skater is prepared to enjoy the fruits of his toil and handicraft by skimming over the glassy ice during the moonlight nights.

It was in this simple pioneer life that the boy as well as the man learned to apply his wit and ingenuity in supplying his wants. A little money might have purchased in a hardware store in the village an article then known as a skate, and occasionally a young fellow who had been able to earn a dollar or two would astonish his companions by exhibiting one of these new creations, but with the average country boy a silver dollar or its equivalent in Spanish sixpences, shillings and quarters was not so easy to obtain. And then, too, there was a sort of honest pride and independence that fully compensated the patient toiler, in having constructed with his own hands the rough but serviceable substitute, with which by skillful practice he could outdistance his companion with the "boughten" article. The same was true of the homemade sled with which he coasted down the hillsides, where smooth paths had been worn during the day, and made still more smooth and slippery by pouring on it a few pails of water after nightfall, which froze as it fell, with the thermometer standing at twenty degrees below zero.

Chapter III

One of the red-letter days which is always fresh in the memory of the past was the advent of the old-time circus, which made its annual rounds, affording a source of endless delight to the youth of the land. For weeks preceding the eventful day the fences and barns of the surrounding country would be decorated with immense posters in brilliant colors depicting all the wonderful scenes to be presented by "The greatest show on earth." At this season the attraction of the circus was an event beside which the Christmas holidays and even the glorious 4th of July paled into insignificance, as the flaming posters pictured the grand procession with the elephant at its head — "the largest elephant in the world" — followed by a long train of zoological wonders, prancing steeds with bareback riders, while in the center were the well-known features of the great showman, whose name stood as a guaranty back of every remarkable statement on the show bills, some of which were calculated to stagger the belief of the most credulous.

For weeks before the momentous event the boy would be counting his little store of pennies, and puzzling his brain in devising some means of increasing his wealth, as the appointed day grew perilously near, with an alarming shortage of the necessary amount, until a whispered appeal to mother or an offer of a generous older brother would set his little heart at rest on that score ; for it cost no small amount in those days of small things, when the entrance fee was 25 cents for an adult, and half-price for children, and no circus could be absolutely complete in its wealth of enjoyment for the small boy without his card of gingerbread and his glass of lemonade or ginger beer.

In the dawn of the early morning of the great day many an anxious eye was intent on watching the sky, and dire predictions of rain would cast a damper on the hopes of Mary Jane, who has washed and starched her best gown for the occasion, but later a joyous cry would be heard, as the sun came out bright with a cloudless sky which gave every promise of an ideal circus day.

Arriving on the ground, and once inside the tent, after pushing and jamming one's way through the perspiring crowd, what joy was in store for the little fellow who was lucky enough to get a front seat on the grass just outside of the roped arena; and who does not remember the delight that filled his breast as he beheld for the first time all the wonders of the ring, the astonishing feats of the bareback rider as he flies around the circle on his fleet steed and jumps the hurdles, and later, the young fairy in gauze and tarleton enters the ring standing on the back of the old reliable white horse, who with steady strides makes the circuit under the guidance of his charming rider, stopping long enough to allow the typical old clown to relieve himself of his latest joke, and sing his topical song, the refrain of which still lingers in our memory:

"Chief cook and bottle washer, head of all the waiters, Stand upon your head while you peel a bag of taters, All jog along,"

and proceeds to jog along himself in a lame and halting gait, while the joy of the audience finds expression in a pandemonium of shrieks, laughter and cat-calls, which drowns the music of the band, and little else can be heard except the strident voice of the vendor of soft drinks, who makes the welkin ring with his "Lemonade this way," mingled with the cries of the popcorn and peanut merchants and the cry of the song-book man, "Latest jokes and songs of the clown; only 10 cents."

Who doesn't recall the scenes of that wonderful day, when Josh with his best girl is seen on a front seat with a plentiful supply of popcorn, peanuts and peppermint candy, while in close proximity are dad and ma, who have come on the prudent errand of "looking after the children," and near them is a grey-haired octogenarian with his youngest grandchild in his arms, taking in the show with all the delight of his infantile years.

But the joys of the old-time circus did not end with that day. For days and weeks afterwards little groups of boys would be seen discussing all the wonderful exploits that they had witnessed, and what one had forgotten another would recall to mind, and during all this time the small boy would be seen practicing standing on his head, walking on his hands, with other daring feats, to the mortal terror of his anxious mother, who "viewed with alarm" the perilous exploits of her venturesome offspring.

In these later days, when the pampered appetite for unnatural excitement is fed to its fullest extent by daily and nightly exhibitions at the movies, a large proportion of which has escaped the watchful eye of the censor, scenes that poison the minds of the young with their coarse and sensuous allurements, of course nobody but an old "back number" would think of reverting to the joy which the old-time circus imparted to the healthy and innocent mind of the youth of more than half a century ago ; and yet it was the boys and girls of those days who were laying the foundation for a noble manhood and womanhood, whose after years were devoted to the work of making the world a better place in which to live.

We had very little currency in those early days; in fact the only paper money was a long and narrow script, commonly called a "shinplaster," signed by the county treasurer, a rudely printed affair calling for a valuation of twenty-five, fifty, and seventy-five cents, which was redeemable in silver coin at the county treasury. The few silver coins in circulation were Spanish sixpences, shillings and two-shillings, and occasionally, though rarely, we would see a silver American dollar, quite a curiosity to the denizen of the backwoods. The copper coinage, which comprised the most treasured wealth of the children was the American penny, a beautiful coin as it came bright and fresh from the mint, and about two-thirds of the size of our present half dollar, which would purchase at the bakery in town a large stick of peppermint or lemon candy, and the boy would proudly exhibit to his little visitor his precious store of wealth, consisting of pennies, sixpences and shillings; but with the country boy there was little thought of parting with these treasures, and nothing but the temptation of circus day would induce him to expend it. His needs were very few compared with the boy of this day. He was always comfortably and decently clad, through summer and winter, and there was a plentiful supply of good, wholesome food. There was always a goodly store of flour, corn, bacon and other meats, all the product of the farm. The few necessary articles which we were obliged to purchase were easily procured in exchange for butter and eggs, which were always in demand at the nearest country store.

CHAPTER IV The Mexican War — The Telegraph — The Railroad

It is the summer of 1847. The piping days of peace which have dwelt with us for thirty-five years, since the war of 1812, are giving place to the shrill notes of the fife and drum that presage the Mexican war. Why we should have a war with Mexico nobody seems to know, and nobody seems to care much about it, because nobody is obliged to enlist unless he wants to. However, the spirit of adventure is in the air, and the thirst for glory at the cannon's mouth is firing the youth of the land, and as we listen on a quiet summer afternoon we hear in the village the distant notes of the fife and drum, and we are told that a recruiting squad is picking up volunteers.