CHAPTER VIII.

Tribute to the Mothers and Wives of the Pioneers - Clothing of the People - The Food of the Pioneers - First Marriages - First Term of Distrit Court - Old Settlers' Reunion - Extract of an Address by W.W. Cox at Old Settlers' Reunion in 1866 - "My Wilderness Home in Childhood" by Mrs. Nettie Pingree.

The mothers and wives of the pioneers are justly entitled to kind remembrance. They were devoted and self-sacrificing beyond measure. The labor they performed and the hardships they endured should live in the hearts of the people to the remotest generation. Here is a picture not overdrawn: A young bride of twenty has left her father’s home of comfort and luxury in the East, and with her young husband has turned her face toward the setting sun, with the determination to assist in hewing out a new home in the wilderness of the West. With no capital except a strong resolution to win and strong faith in the future, they bid adieu to friends and kindred, and with a steady eye fixed upon the star of empire they penetrate the wilderness. A little log cabin or a sod house or a dugout has been hastily built for shelter. A parlor, sitting room, kitchen, and bed room are all combined in one. The bare walls of this rude home are brought in contrast in the mind of the young wife with the beautiful home of her childhood, but in her young breast "hope is like an author to the soul." When the first Sabbath dawns she may listen in vain for the sweet chimes of the church going bell, but looking out on the broad expanse of prairie all is solitary. Sometimes with heaviness of heart she labors on and on, and cheers the faltering heart of her husband in his endeavors. The little means that they have brought are rapidly melting away before any return for their labor is in eight. The beautiful garments of her youth are fading and becoming tattered. By and by she becomes a mother, and while the beautiful gift of heaven may bring joy and gladness, yet in the same train it brings anxieties and sorrows, a constant care by day and by night. The young father must sometimes go long distances from home, to be gone days at a time, to a mill fifty or a hundred miles away, or to a city far away, and the young mother and her darling must stay weary days and long nights in the lonely borne, with no protector but her God. And now comes a strolling band of hungry Indians to frighten and annoy her, and while her child is screaming with fright she must stand in the door and face these ferocious wild men. She must frequently leave her child to cry, while she goes long distances after the cows, or to a distant spring for water, or carry the baby on her arm and a heavy bucket of water with the other. Then again harvest time comes or something else occurs when several work hands must be provided for, when, with scanty means at command she must perhaps carry the babe upon her arm and with the other do the work of cooking for the hands. And again when night comes she must divide her bed and make beds upon the cabin floor for the men, and as her husband keeps a "free hotel" for all strangers, she must deny herself and little ones ease and comfort to wait upon strangers, and frequently make her children wait at meal time while strangers eat their bread, and the mother and children make their meal from the scraps. This is no fancy sketch, it has occurred ten thousand times, of which there are plenty of living witnesses.

Oh! who but a mother can tell of the weariness of a mother’s life on the frontier; so often struggling to keep the wolf from the door, so often beset with dangers, so often overworked with slavish labor, and so often overwrought with anxious care. No wonder that untimely gray hairs appear, and that her cheeks are furrowed while she should yet be in the prime of her womanly strength and beauty.

Young men and maidens of Nebraska, you that have such pleasant homes today, will you please remember what it has cost your mothers in the years gone by to prepare these homes for you. In your grateful hearts will you in a becoming manner reverence and love them? If you can fully realize what they have done for you in your imagination it will surround their gray heads with grace and beauty, intermingled with a halo of holy light during the first years of the settlement should perhaps receive some notice. It must be borne in mind that clothing was extremely high in price from 1883 to 1868. The commonest calico was worth from forty to fifty cents per yard. A pair of brogan shoes cost five dollars; common domestic was worth from seventy-five cents to one dollar per yard, and all articles at about the same rate. Fine clothing was entirely out of reach of the common people, and were unseen in this country. The men were usually provided with a (condemned) soldier’s overcoat, which were the cheapest garments in the market. Condemned soldiers’ blankets were also used to considerable extent. We have seen them made into overshirts, and then used for under-shirts. We have also known them to be made into pants. Our hats and caps were just what happened to come handy—sometimes caps of coon or badger skins; at other times some old garment would be ripped up and made into a cap; occasionally a chip hat was seen, but usually in a weather-beaten condition, and frequently it was minus a large part of the rim. A gray horse-blanket frequently served as a coat. Mittens were made rudely of skins of animals—elk, coon, or whatever came handy; sometimes they were made of old bits of cloth, and faced with pieces of old meal sacks, and meal sacks were frequently converted into pants. Strips of bed-ticking furnished us with suspenders. Our feet, perhaps, had the hardest time of it, as they were brought more directly into contact with frost and snow. The man that had a pair of good cowhide boots was fortunate, but he was an exception. We improvised moccasins which at times we Were fortunate enough to trade for with the Indians; then we would make them ourselves out of elk bides, or of cloth or sheep skins. Our poor feet were often in a sorry plight.

If our wives were fortunate enough to have two calico dresses in one year they were truly thankful. Sunbonnets of calico were commonly worn to church, as well as the faded shawls of other years. Cloth slippers frequently served for shoes, or moccasins. We have known the old chests to be rummaged and old bedspreads, such as the dear old grandmothers wove, brought out as a last resort and made into skirts and worn. In summer, men, women, young men, and maidens went barefoot to a great extent.

Such clothing as we wore, even the best of us, would now be a laughing stock for you all, but then it was no laughing matter; now it’s no matter how much you laugh. Should you see one dressed in the usual garb of 1864 and 1865 you would certainly think it to be a scarecrow, yet we were powerless to have it otherwise. We all felt the sting of the situation. We had many of us been used to better fare. We bad just as noble aspirations as any of our present people. We all wanted to do better, and just as soon as it was possible we did do better.

Our food was usually plain and healthful. We used as a matter of necessity a great amount of corn bread and lye horn my. We generally had a good supply of wild fruits, such as plums, grapes, gooseberries, elderberries, and raspberries. We made sorghum molasses for sweetening. Our new ground produced melons in grand profusion, and when we were fortunate enough to keep the Indians from stealing them, we enjoyed eating melons such as a king might admire. Our wives were almost universally good cooks, and they would come nearer getting up a good dinner out of poor material than most women do out of a well-supplied larder. At times our tables were supplied with delicious meats of antelope and wild turkeys, frequently of elk, and occasionally of buffalo. Then again we would have to depend upon smaller game, such as prairie chickens, rabbits, squirrels, etc Alter the first year pigs began to accumulate, also domestic fowls, and occasionally a beet would be slaughtered, and also vegetables were produced, and the skies became brighter.

Later corners usually brought a little money, and we proved a blessing to them, as we usually had something to sell them that they moat needed, such as grain, hay, poultry, a pig, a cow perhaps, some potatoes for seed, and we welcomed them heartily, for they brought us some money, which we sorely needed, and they brought us society, which we had longed for so patiently. They brought us hopes of schools and church privileges, for which we were hungry indeed. We began to renew our dilapidated clothing and live more like folks, and our lives were brighter and more cheerful for their coming.

Visiting on the frontier was a feature worth noticing. With all our poverty, we enjoyed visiting one another. We made no fashionable calls, just to show what fine clothes we could wear. We were all ragged alike. When we went we aimed to put in the whole day, and took the whole family, and we invariably had a good time. One feature of these visits was that our good wives all knew one another’s circumstances. If the neighbor to be visited was out of butter or meat, or any other article necessary to make a square meal, it was never an offense to look the cupboard over and take such things along as would supply a deficiency. That would now be considered an insult. Then it was the most common thing to take a roll of butter, a piece of meat, a few eggs, or anything that parties were fortunate enough to have, and that was known to be lacking at the place to be visited. People were always welcome at their neighbors’ hearts.

OUR PEOPLE.

We are a mixed multitude. We have drawn our population from nearly all of the northern and eastern states—have representatives from Kentucky, Virginia, and the Carolinas. We have drawn more heavily on Illinois and Iowa than other states. Of our foreign-born people, the Germans perhaps exceed all others, although we have quite a respectable number from England, Ireland, and Sweden, with a few from France, We have drawn from the best blood of all localities from which we emigrated. It certainly is the best class of people of any state or country that have a longing for a home of their own and that have the courage to break away from old home and old associates and face the dangers of the wilderness and all the privations of the frontier for the sake of a home, and of such are the masses of our people. Our Germans were principally thoroughly schooled in American ways of life in Illinois and Iowa, where they had a long residence prior to their coming here, and it is rarely that we find one who cannot talk our language fluently and has not an intelligent idea of our institutions. They are most universally an energetic and thrifty people, stepping to the front as farmers and business-men. They have done much toward developing and enriching the county. They sustain in their various denominations ten churches, each with a creditable house of worship. There are quite a number of English people, who are among our most thrifty and valuable citizens. The same may be said of many Irish families, also Swedish, Danish, and French. All are represented by the intelligent and valuable of their respective countries. They are all here with a full purpose of becoming Americans and identified with the institutions of their adopted borne. They are all making rapid progress in adopting American ways and methods, and we are fast becoming a homogeneous people. There are a very few families of colored people, probably not to exceed six, and they are very worthy and industrious people. So far as we are advised all of them had been slaves when young, and it certainly is to their credit that they are doing so well.

The Americans of course largely preponderate in numbers, and they are universally intelligent and progressive, and the great mass of them are prosperous. There are hundreds who came to the county with little more than then bare hands and with large families, who now have beautiful homes and a great abundance of this world’s goods. Their children have grown up intelligently, and the old folks are enjoying the fruits of a well-spent life.

We have in all parts of the county great numbers of the old soldiers, and it is a matter pride that they are so universally respected and honored for the honorable part they had in saving for us a home and a country, and for their sterling qualities as citizens.

FIRST MARRIAGES.

The first marriage in the county, as shown by the records, was that of John W. Pitt and Miss Elva S. Long, at the residence of Samuel Long, on the 12th day of November, 1866. The ceremony was performed by C. J. Neihardt, J. P.

The that marriage in G precinct and city of Seward was at the house of Lewis Moffitt, on the 20th day of March, 1867. The contracting parties were David P. Imlay and Miss Mary Moffitt, W. W. Cox, justice of the peace, officiating. On the 20th of April, 1867, the second wedding in "G" precinct was that of James A. Brown and Miss Sarah A. Imlay, at the residence of the bride’s father, one and one-half miles north-east of the present city. We had the honor of officiating on that occasion.

PROBATE COURT RECORD.

We glean from the probate court records that the first letters of guardianship were issued by Judge Henry Wortendyke, on the 29th of January, 1870, to Sarah C. Wilcox, in matters of guardianship of the minor heirs of Syrel Tift.

The first term of the district court was held in Seward county, at Milford, November 15, 1869, Judge Geo. B. lake presiding. Frank M. Elsworth was appointed district attorney. First case on the docket was John W. Shields vs. J. L. Bandy. The only state case was against W. H. Tuttle, for an assault on Jonathan Gordon. Mr. Tuttle got clear of the charge, but the prevalent impression was that he ought to be fined for not doing a more thorough job.

J. C. Cowin, of Omaha, was the first district attorney of the district who attended our court, which was held in the year 1870, at Milford.

The first term held at Seward was in the spring of 1872, Judge Lake on the bench. T. L. Norval was appointed district attorney. At that term the famous Courtwright injunction case came up, in which Judge Lake made the injunction against the Midland R. R. and the county commissioners perpetual.

Judge Lake held the office of judge of this judicial district until the year 1876, when the districts were changed and the sixth district was formed. Geo. W. Post was elected, and he was re-elected and served until the spring of 1883, when be resigned, and T. L. Norval was appointed by Gov. Dawes to fill the vacancy. Judge Norval was elected in the fall of 1883 and has held the office since that date, and was re-elected in the fall of 1887. M. B. Reese was elected district attorney, and held the office until 1882. Thos. Darnall was elected to the place in the fall of 1882, who held the place until January, 1887, when the law took effect making county attorneys, at which time R. P. Anderson was elected to the office of county attorney.

Prior to 1879, the county clerk performed the duties of district clerk. H. P. Lewis was appointed in 1879, and elected in 1880 and re-elected in 1882, after which Geo. A. Merriam was elected, and was re-elected in November, 1887.

OLD SETTLERS’ REUNIONS

The first meeting of the reunion of old settlers was held in the public square at Seward in October, 1884, with W. W. Cox as president. The meeting was not largely attended, but was of great interest. Many touching incidents of early times were related. In 1885 there was no meeting, but in October, 1886, the society was reorganized and placed on a more permanent basis. Officers elected were:
W. W. Cox, president, Geo. A. Merriam, secretary, and Mrs. Thos. Graham, treasurer. The society that year opened a registry of the old settlers, giving name, time of settlement, where located, age, etc. Great numbers availed themselves of that privilege. A very large and enthusiastic meeting was held in Roberts’ grove, west of the city. The officers for 1887 were: J. H. Culver, of Milford, president; George A. Merriam, secretary, and Mrs. Thos. Graham, treasurer. In October, 1887, the annual meeting was held at Milford, was very largely attended, and a very enjoyable meeting was held. Gov. Thayer made the address of the day. Many new names were added to the registry. Officers elected for 1888 were: W. R. Davis, president, and Geo. A. Merriam and Mrs. Graham were again reelected, and Seward was chosen as the place of the meeting of’ 1888. These meetings bid fair to grow in interest from year to year, and in the long years to come the registry will become of priceless valise.

The four counties of Butler, Polk, York, and Seward have held conjointly three reunions, at Lord’s grove, near the four corners, where vast numbers of the people of all these counties have held very profitable meetings.

At the meeting in 1886 it was estimated that over four thousand were present. The meeting of 1887 was postponed on account of a heavy rain storm, and the adjourned meeting met with same obstacle, when it was determined to defer the meeting to the summer of 1888.

EXTRACT FROM AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BY W. W. COX AT AN
OLD SETTLERS' REUNION AT LORD’S GROVE, NEAR THE
FOUR CORNERS OF BUTLER, POLK, YORK, AND
SEWARD COUNTIES, 1886.

Young friends, children of the pioneers, we would ask you to bear in kind remembrance the hardships and struggles that these grey headed fathers and mothers have endured in other years to provide homes of comfort and luxury for you. Their heads are fast becoming silvered with age. Their steps are not so elastic as in other years. The great duties with which they so manfully grappled in the prime of their manhood’s strength must now be accepted by you. Will you accept them like men and women, worthy the honored names you bear?

The improvements on these prairies, these houses and barns, these groves and orchards, these smiling fields, these churches and schoolhouses, these thrifty towns and cities, that, like jewels of a crown, are scattered over the plain, all attest that the pioneers have not lived in vain. They have laid well and firmly these foundations. You must go on with the superstructure.

There is yet plenty of work for you. These beneficent institutions are to be guarded, and great undertakings are yet to develop into achievements that will bless mankind. This vast empire must in the near future teem with its millions of people, and it will require great wisdom to guide them to a proper destiny, and upon you, our sons and daughters, must devolve the duty of going forward wisely and energetically to complete the task we have so well begun. Oh,. for the glory of the future of our native land!

May you, fathers and mothers, spend your declining years amidst peace and plenty, surrounded by earnest, loving, and intelligent children, carrying forward with master hands the enterprises that are so dear to your hearts, and may he who shall stand here in the far-off years to come, to tell the stories of our first settlement, of our joys and sorrows, of our labors, trials, and discouragement, and the final triumphs, "be able to still look around upon a great, intelligent, free, and happy people." May he with all the enthusiasm of poesy exclaim:

Here is still my country,
Zealous yet modest,
innocent though free.
Patient of toil,
Serene amidst alarms,
Inflexible in faith.
Invincible in arms.

THE WILDERNESS HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD.
FROM THE PEN OF NETTlE M. PINOREE.

The bills are dearest which our childish
Have climbed the earliest; and the streams most sweet
Are ever those at which our young lips drank,
Stooped to their waters o’er the grassy bank.

Though years have passed since our last visit to the old home stead, visions come to us of the woods and valleys by the sparkling waters of the beautiful Blue.

The river winds its crooked way through the valley with many a curve, forming broad acres of woodland which were a perfect paradise to us during the whole year. There, in the spring-time, the green grass and violets formed a beautiful carpet for our feet, while around us the alder and wild plum blossoms made fragrant the air with their sweet scented odor.

Down the garden path bordered with moss roses and morning glories, we would speed away to the river, bait our books for fish, and cross the foot log and follow the path through the woods to the school-house. That little rough board shanty, sodded all around, and the home-made, knife-marked desks have given place to new and better ones. The children upon the playground are strange to us, but the same games of "blind man’s buff" and "drop the handkerchief" are played by them as we played long years since.

The grape-vine swing must not be forgotten, for there, with choicest flowers, was crowned the queen of May, and also, in childish sport, were wedded two schoolmates, just twenty years ago.

Under the welcome shade of the old walnut tree by the ford we studied our Sunday-school lessons, and were often lulled to sleep by the merry song of the wild birds.

During the long summer days, wading around the sand-bars and gathering shells afforded us a most delightful pastime, and as the sun was seeking the western horizon we would mount old Ned, the family horse, ford the river, and go to the farther pasture after the cows.

Each land hath its shadows, and each home bath its ghosts, and ours was not an exception. The "Big grove" was the most beautiful of all the "bends," on account of the heavy timber and dense foliage. There the sugar maple trees abounded, and there grew the most berries, the latter being very important, for many a new dress and coat were bought with the profits realized from their sale.

One evening at dusk something large and white, resembling a great bear, was seen to come out of those woods, and although we afterward learned that it was only a neighbor boy with a bed-tick over his head, we never ventured again into that grove without company.

When the autumn suns changed the foliage and ripened the fruits, then was our harvest. It would be difficult to decide who worked the harder to store away the winter’s supply of walnuts and acorns, we children or the squirrels. Perhaps we tired of the labor more quickly than ours little forest friends, for frequently the restful shade of the great oaks would be too tempting, and we seated ourselves by their roots and weaved wreathes of the brilliant-hued leaves, while tile autumn winds sighed and rustled the branches overhead, making a beautiful accompaniment to our fancies. But when winter came with its hoary frosts and covered the earth with its blanket of snow, and the cold winds whistled through the barren timber, then, like all the children of the woods, the most comfortable place for us was home. That little log cabin, with its great fireplace and clay-chinked walls, IS tile most cherished of all places. The dove-cote upon its roof, the cave behind it, the box-alder and cottonwood trees, and the old-fashioned well will always be remembered.

It seems but yesterday that father brought in the huge back-log and built a brilliant fire in front of it, then popped the corn for our first Christmas eve in our new home. He took us children on his knee and told us of Santa Claus, and how he would come down that huge chimney and fill our stockings, if we would hurry off’ to bed. Mother tucked the covers carefully about us and resumed her knitting, while father read aloud, by the light of the blazing brushwood, the latest news of the rebellion, which was then raging with all its horrors.

We watched the shadows cast by the flickering light of the burn-lug embers upon the hearth till we fell asleep, dreaming, as all children do, of Chris Kringle and his sleighful of toys. In the morning, when the sun’s first rays peeped through the curtains of the one window in the cabin, with a bright Christmas greeting, we hastened to our stockings, to find them overflowing with popcorn anti doughnuts. Away down in the toe we found a stick of candy and a pair of lovely red mittens with little snowflakes all over them. We were a happy little band, and though many Christmases have come and gone, and Santa Claus has filled our stockings with a far more lavish hand, yet none will have the same place in our memory as the one of ‘64.

But now, far removed from those loved scenes of childhood, and looking out upon a broad expanse of prairie and corn land, our minds will naturally wander back to the old homestead, and decide that, though home is home where’er it may be, yet that halo cannot be taken away from our father’s hearthstone.