What was life like for the Pioneers?

Transcription

1 What was life like for the Pioneers? You should have read the article Family Life on the Trail West. Feel free to refer back to Walt Whitman s poem Pioneers O Pioneers. In addition you may read the attached journal entries to get a feel for what it was like at the time. Additionally you may use any of the images presented in class or part of the attached packet to help you analyze what life was like for those venturing west. In your groups you are to communicate your life back to family you left behind in the east. Please draft a letter to them sharing your experiences and draw a picture that helps communicate your message. This assignment is also on the website under chapter 13 if you would like to view the images in color. As you write and draw your work please remember to describe your experience in the first person. Figure out where you are going, how you are getting there, what do you expect to find when you arrive. Get into the emotions of the people living at this time. What was it like? How did they feel? Feel free to get into character, develop the personal details and by all means be creative. Husband (Part of a pioneer family) Wife Son Daughter Gold Seeker Mormon

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5 Great Grandmother Samantha Jane Emmons Dillard's Story Posted by Great Grandson John Christopher Stone In 1853 two young men, James H. and Wallace W. Shortridge heeded the admonition of Horace Greeley to "G0 West, young man, go West", and crossed the plains from Illinois to Oregon and settled just South of Cottage Grove. They sent glowing reports to their relatives in the East to the effect that Willamette Valley had a climate unexcelled In these United States, and that they had no snow at all during the winter; that there were homes for all who came; that there was plenty of green grass during the winter for horses and cattle and plenty of wood to burn instead of coal. After reading these letters for several years, their sister Mrs. James Whitely Emmons, and her family, packed up their belongings and started the trek across the vast plains from Mississippi to where rolls the Oregon. In general the route traveled was from Muscatine, Iowa, westward through Des Moines to Council Bluffs, and across the Missouri River at Omaha, Nebraska, then followed up the north side of the North Platte River to Ft. Kearney and Ft. Laramie, thence following always on the north side of the North Platte river to the Sweetwater, thence up the Sweetwater to the South Pass of the Continental Divide, thence down the Dry Sandy River to about Edens, Wyoming, thence westward again to the Blackfoot bridge across the Snake River, leaving Ft. Hall and Ft. Bridger well to the South. From the Blackfoot bridge west across southern Idaho to old Ft. Boise on the Snake River and from this point followed the old immigrant road across the Blue Mountains, crossing the Cascades at the

6 Barlow Pass then down to Oregon City and south through Salem and Eugene to Cottage Grove or Stringtown as it was then called. "We left Mercer County, Illinois, (not far from New Boston) April18th, 1866, driving a four horse team, and first ferried the Mississippi at Muscatine, Iowa, which at that point was a mile wide, and headed westward with a one wagon train. We had a new wagon, harness and four good horses and what we called a modern covered wagon. By this we mean that the bows were perpendicular and did not project forward like the wagons of the earlier immigrants. We had built a platform about eight feet wide on top of the wagon bed with three trap doors In it so we could reach the wagon box below. This platform was used for sleeping quarters, while the wagon box was used for the other things we needed to bring with us. We made about twenty-five miles per day across Iowa, crossed the Missouri River at Omaha, Nebraska, and went up the north side of the Platte River to Ft. Kearney. After leaving Muscatine, Iowa, we went on to Council Bluffs, Iowa, which was the first main stopping place after Muscatine. It was here that I saw my first Indian grave. The Indians would not use coffins. They just took a box and placed the embalmed body in it, leaving the top open, and put it in a grave about the same depth as we use now. All of the Indian's belongings were arranged in the grave around the sides so as not to cover the body. Later on they made them fill in the graves, but at that time they did not. I don't know what they used to preserve the bodies with, but there was no odor and you could see the body lying there in the box. Our next main stop was at Ft. Kearney, Nebraska, where we were held until a sufficient number of emigrants had arrived to make up a train to start our journey across the plains. We had traveled alone until we reached here and It had rained almost all of the time and the water was high. Here we were joined by enough emigrants to make up a train of twenty-two wagons, as it was necessary to have this many in the train in order to make a corral. There were four wagons pulled by oxen and the rest by horses. Since the ox teams traveled a good deal slower than the horses all hands In the morning would get the ox teams started ahead first and of course during the day we would pass them and go on ahead and when camping time came we would have things ready for the ox teams when they arrived. Our Captain had been across the plains before and knew just what to do, so at night we would all drive our wagons in a big circle and make a big corral and our stock was all put inside this corral and we would keep fires burning all night, and two men stood guard every night. When It came my father's turn to stand guard, the next day I would have to drive our four horse team and wagon. I was thirteen years old then and small for my age. Our Captain knew where all the watering places were and the distance between these places largely determined the number of miles traveled each day by the train, which averaged from ten to twenty-five miles per day. At Ft. Kearney we did not cross the Platte River as many wagons had mired down In the quicksand and had a hard time getting out, many of them being lost. We left Ft. Kearney and traveled on the north side of the Platte River for two or three hundred miles. It was just as smooth as a table, no ditches or ruts all the way. When we reached Fort Laramie, Wyoming, there were several hundred Indians being held there to arrange a treaty. They told us that if we would hurry on through the Black Hills, they would hold the Indians there until we got through. We did this, but the next train that came after us was caught and destroyed by the Indians. While we were waiting at Ft. Laramie some of the Indians came to our camp and our

7 Captain told us we must give them whatever they asked us for to keep them friendly. They put a blanket down and put the things we gave then on it. Everything was so mixed up, sugar, tobacco, flour, etc., I don't see how they ever got it straightened out. They asked chiefly for fire water (whiskey) and tobacco, but wanted almost everything they saw. We had a new wagon (as was everything else we started out with, an my father would not have anything but the best to make the trip with) and it was fixed so that we could slide the wagon sheet back and let in the air and also see the scenery. This left our gun in sight, which was a single trigger, muzzle loader. I was sitting on the seat of the wagon and my father was close by. The leader of the Indians came up and saw the gun and said "Heap gun. See gun", and reached up his hand for it. In doing so his sleeve slid back and showed that he was a white man with his arms painted about half way up. My father told him the gun was loadod and that he would use it on him if he did not get out. The man said that he would make the Indians angry and my father said he was not afraid of them and that he had plenty of rope and he would hang him if he didn't get out, so he took his crowd of Indians and got out in a hurry. The renegade white men caused more trouble and did lots more damage than the Indians and they taught the Indiana the white man's meanness. There were always plenty of renegade whites hanging around to cause trouble even before the Indiana got around to it. Our new wagon had the only water-tight box In the train and at Sweetwater the river was too deep to ford so we took the box off our wagon and used It as a ferry boat across the river. They would unhitch from the wagons and take the beds of the wagons off of the running gears, then tie a long rope around the neck of one horse and swim him across the river, tying the other end on the wagon bed and have the horse pull it across the river with the supplies in It. A rope was also fastened on the rear of the wagon box and someone would hold onto this to keep it from going down the river. The stock was all driven across and the other wagon boxes were put on top ours and ferried across and the running gears were then pulled across. These also had a rope tied to the rear end and this was held by someone on the opposite shore to keep them from drifting down stream. These were the days when the girls and women wore hoops and the Captain allowed us to wear them until we reached Sweetwater where we had to ferry across. Here he called us all together and told us that we would have to discard our hoops and on looking around we saw hundreds of these hoops hanging on trees where they had been discarded by women of previous trains. We did not bring anything with us but our bedding and clothing and the supplies we needed to use on the trip. We had our cook stove fastened on a little platform in the rear of our wagon it having an oven and two cooking holes as well as an extra one for the coffee pot. We did not do any cooking over a camp fire. In the Black Hills (probably Rattle Snake Hills, at Split Rock on the Sweetwater) there were big ant hills and the ants would take all the little places of glass and beads that the Indiana had dropped while beadding buffalo robes and put these in the hills they built. We youngsters had a great time finding these beads and I still have some of them. There were friendly Indians here that sold the buffalo robes and we bought one of the plain ones as the beaded ones were too expensive. While going through the Black Hills there was practically no timber and the hills were covered with coarse grass and bushes and all

8 the time we were followed by an Indian we called Bannock Jim. He rode a big black horse and looked like a statute. We never saw him move but every time we would go around a hill there he would be ahead of us watching us. The Indians wanted the stock we had with us and had him watching for a chance to steal it. Several times during our trip the guard caught Indians sneaking to our corral through the grass. They would just point their guns at the Indiana and they would leave. They never had to fire a shot at them. The Indians were awfully angry because they couldn't get our stock. Two days before we reached the crossing on the Snake River Bannock Jim disappeared and we did not see him any more. This made my father and Captain Cox uneasy and they both said something was wrong or something was going to happen. We had to cross the Snake River through a narrow canyon and across the river was a station manned by two soldiers from Illinois. They were there as guards, as no Indians were allowed in this territory. When we came to the Canyon my father flatly refused to go through it and cross the river there. The Captain said "I can't understand you Emmons, what is the matter with you? You never were contrary before". My father said that nothing was the matters but he just felt that something was wrong and he would not cross there. They talked it over and the Captain decided there must be something wrong too, so we all traveled about twenty miles up the river to the Black Bridge, near the Black Foot Mines where the next crossing was. The Snake River here was narrow, swift and rocky. We came back down to the station on the other side of the river and found the soldiers here were from Illinois also, and, as we were the only ones in the train from Illinois, they went out of their way to treat us nicely. They certainly were fine to us. It was here we saw the first little pigs we had seen since we left home and we youngsters chased them never stopping until we each had one in our arms. It had been a long time since we had seen any houses, or stock of any kind or any people other than those in the train. We left there rather early in the morning and before noon one of the men on horseback from the settlement caught up with us and told us that the Indiana had been camped in the Canyon waiting for us to come through to cross the river and when they found out we had crossed some place else they were so angry they went across the river and killed the two soldiers. They were just young men too. If the crossing had been made there the Indians would have killed us all just to got our stock. A few days travel beyond the Black Foot bridge put us In safe territory and here the train divided, part of them going by Salt Lake City, but we came on as there was no danger from the Indians from there on. Two or three of the wagons who had started with us had previously left the train and gone to Montana. Several years afterward we saw two of the families in Roseburg who had gone by Salt Lake City. Our next crossing was at Ft. Boise, Idaho, we then went on to the Blue Mountains, crossing at the regular immigrant road pass. We stopped at a Catholic station and it was here we heard the first music since we left home. A daughter of the family had a piano and she had taken music lessons at The Dalles. The piano had a low fence built around it so that no one also could touch it. The people in the train would ask her to play Yankee Doodle and similar pieces and when she played them her mother would ask her if she was playing Catholic pieces and the girl told her she was playing what she had learned and, as the mother did not know one piece from another, she thought she was playing only the pieces she had learned from the Sisters. In passing through this country we encountered some very steep and narrow roads. I remember one especially the road leading down into Grande Ronde Valley where we had to tie logs behind the wagons to

9 hold them back, as our brakes were insufficient. Leaving the Blue Mountain Pass we followed the well defined immigrant road down the Umatilla river, through what is now Pandleton, crossed the Umatilla river about where Echo is now located and thence west fifty or sixty miles south of the Columbia rivers crossing the John Day River at a ford and crossing the Deschutes at Shearers Bridge, thence through the old Barlow Pass down to Oregon City and followed the river road from Oregon City south through Salem and Eugene to Cottage Grove. We came from the plains country where distances meant nothing, but we were much surprised when we camped one night and thought we were camping at the foot of a hill. The parents sent us children after fire wood and we had to walk four or five miles before we reached the trees that looked so close when we camped. We passed lots of new made graves on the way. Some of these deaths were caused by illness, but the most of them were from fights had by men in the other trains. The nearest we came to having any trouble was one day two men in our train who had been having arguments drew their guns and the Captain and my father stepped between them and told them they should be ashamed of themselves as good Christian people to be acting that way. They put their guns away and that was the only trouble we had on our whole trip. We had one bachelor in our train who decided one day he wanted some beans, so he filled a four gallon kettle with dry beans and cooked them. The whole camp had beans that day. Our Captain would not tolerate any whiskey in our train. one man who was taking a wagon load of liquor to the mines in Idaho attempted to attach himself to our train, but the Captain would not allow this, consequently he followed us very closely, always camping as close to our corral as he dared to. When we stopped at Sweetwater where there were soldiers stationed, this man gave the captain of the soldiers some whiskey, and as he had not had any liquor for a long time It made him funny and he chased little Johnnie Cox around under the tents on his knees. We arrived at my Uncle James Shortridge's place ten miles South of Cottage Grove on the last day of August, The night we arrived there I had a cousin born who was named Samantha after me. When we arrived at Cottage Grove our wagon sheet was almost as clean and white as when we started out, as my father was very particular of all of his belongings. We stopped here at a place owned by some people by the name of Veatch, an they had a nice vegetable garden and it was the first we had seen since we left home. My father asked to buy some of the vegetables and Mr. Veatch looked at us and said "You folks have been roaming aroun Eastern Oregon this summer and having a good time and we stayed at home and worked and raised our vegetables and you can do the same", so he refused to sell us any, When my father explained that we had come across the plains and had just arrived, he apologized and gave us what we wanted. No religious ceremonies were conducted during the trip, although most of our parents were very strict, devout Christians, We had no doctor In the train and fortunately none was needed. Such small ailments as we had were taken care of with home remedies. The strictest discipline was maintained by the Captain of the train throughout the trips We were up early in the morning and traveling as soon after breakfast as the train could be made ready. Abundant feed for the stock was found everywhere. The watering places determined the length of the day's travel. When we camped early enough in the evenings to have some daylight left after the evening meal the whole train would gather around the campfire, play games, sing and generally have a good visit. As darkness came on, however, the fires had to be put out and no loud talking, singing or music of any kind was

10 allowed. In fact the Captain of our train did not like to have musical instruments played In the evening as the sound would carry too far and might attract the attention of passing Indians. The family washing and ironing was not done at regular intervals, but during forced layovers and at points where water was abundant. I particularly remember we laid over an extra day at the crossing of the Sweetwater where there were hot springs so that every one could get cleaned up from the dusty trip from Ft. Kearney. Each family carried the old-fashioned wash tub and wash-board and sad irons. I have always marveled at the strength and fortitude shown by my mother on this trip. We had two spring seats in our Wagon but my mother spent the greater part of her time walking and I can still see her striding along swinging her slat sunbonnet in her hand. She would never walk close to the wagon train but would get as far to one side as she dared to and was always making side trips to see interesting and different places. Started to Oregon April 18, Catherine Sager Pringle (1844) My father was one of the restless ones who are not content to remain in one place long at a time. Late in the fall of 1838 we emigrated from Ohio to Missouri. Our first halting place was on Green River, but the next year we took a farm in Platte County. He engaged in farming and blacksmithing, and had a wide reputation for ingenuity. Anything they needed, made or mended, sought his shop. In 1843, Dr. Whitman came to Missouri. The healthful climate induced my mother to favor moving to Oregon. Immigration was the theme all winter, and we decided to start for Oregon. Late in 1843 father sold his property and moved near St. Joseph, and in April, 1844, we started across the plains. The first encampments were a great pleasure to us children. We were five girls and two boys, ranging from the girl baby to be born on the way to the oldest boy, hardly old enough to be any help. STARTlNG ON THE PLAINS: We waited several days at the Missouri River. Many friends came that far to see the emigrants start on their long journey, and there was much sadness at the parting, and a sorrowful company crossed the Missouri that bright spring morning. The motion of the wagon made us all sick, and it was weeks before we got used to the seasick motion. Rain came down and required us to tie down the wagon covers, and so increased our sickness by confining the air we breathed. Our cattle recrossed in the night and went back to their winter quarters. This caused delay in recovering them and a weary, forced march to rejoin the train. This was divided into companies, and we were in that commanded by William Shaw. Soon after starting

11 Indians raided our camp one night and drove off a number of cattle. They were pursued, but never recovered. Soon everything went smooth and our train made steady headway. The weather was fine and we enjoyed the journey pleasantly. There were several musical instruments among the emigrants, and these sounded clearly on the evening air when camp was made and merry talk and laughter resounded from almost every camp-fire. INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL: We had one wagon, two steady yoke of old cattle, and several of young and not well-broken ones. Father was no ox driver, and had trouble with these until one day he called on Captain Shaw for assistance. It was furnished by the good captain pelting the refractory steers with stones until they were glad to come to terms. Reaching the buffalo country, our father would get someone to drive his team and start on the hunt, for he was enthusiastic in his love of such sport. He not only killed the great bison, but often brought home on his shoulder the timid antelope that had fallen at his unerring aim, and that are not often shot by ordinary marksmen. Soon after crossing South Platte the unwieldy oxen ran on a bank and overturned the wagon, greatly injuring our mother. She lay long insensible in the tent put up for the occasion. We had by this time got used to climbing in and out of the wagon when in motion. When performing this feat that afternoon my dress caught on an axle helve and I was thrown under the wagon wheel, which passed over and badly crushed my limb before father could stop the team. He picked me up and saw the extent of the injury when the injured limb hung dangling in the air A surgeon was found and the limb set; then we pushed on the same night to Laramie, where we arrived soon after dark. This accident confined me to the wagon the remainder of the long journey. After Laramie we entered the great American desert, which was hard on the teams. Sickness became common. Father and the boys were all sick, and we were dependent for a driver on the Dutch doctor who set my leg. He offered his services and was employed, but though an excellent surgeon, he knew little about driving oxen Narcissa Whitman (1836) ON BOARD STEAMBOAT SIAM March 15, Dear, Dear Mother: Your proposal concerning keeping a diary as I journey comes before my mind often. I have not found it practicable while traveling by land, although many events have passed which, if noted as they occurred, might have been interesting. We left Pittsburgh this morning at ten o'clock and are sailing at the rate of thirteen miles an hour. It is delightful passing so rapidly down the waters of the beautiful river. The motion of the boat is very agreeable to me, except while writing. Our accommodations are good; we occupy a stateroom where we can be as retired as we wish.

12 March 28.- We have just come on board the Majestic. It is rightly named, for it is one of the largest boats on the river. We are now sailing on the waters of the great Mississippi. When I commenced this sheet we had just left Pittsburgh. We arrived in Cincinnati Thursday noon. Found Brother Spalding. Said he had been waiting for us anxiously for a fortnight; spent the remainder of the week in making arrangements for our journey, and on the Sabbath had a very interesting time with the disciples of Jesus there; felt strengthened and comforted as we left them, to pursue our journey into the wilderness. Much good feeling was manifested in the churches - a deep interest appeared to be taken in the missions. Especially our two Indian youth attracted the gaze and admiration of a crowd on Sabbath, but our expectations were not realized, and Saturday night found us on the waters of the Mississippi, eighty-nine miles from St. Louis In the afternoon my husband requested the children and youth to meet in a Sabbath school, and we distributed a number of books among them. Of the number we found one young man who professed to be a Roman Catholic - said he wanted to know our religion - had not a Protestant Bible, but if he had one would read it attentively. My husband gave him a testament, for which he appeared grateful. Since we came on board we have come on very pleasantly; our accommodations are better here than on any previous boat-excellent cooks, and enough to eat - servants who stand at our elbows ready to supply every want. Five o'clock.- We are now fast upon a sand-bar, but think we shall soon get off. It has rained all day - a dense fog covers the river, so that it is impossible to shun them. We shall be obliged to lie still to-night 29th, Tuesday Evening. - We are now in port. Husband has been to the office, expecting to find letters from dear, dear friends at home, but find none. Why have they not written? seeing it is the very last, last time they will have to cheer my heart with intelligence from home, home, sweet home, and the friends I love. But I am not sad. My health is good. My mind completely occupied with present duty and passing events. St. Louis has a commanding situation. It is so late and foggy, our view of it as we come in is quite indistinct. Mollie Zemmer (Letter) Dear Aunt, It has been some time I have written to you & I thought that I would try to write you a few lines. We have traveled a good long distance since I wrote you as we are now in Wyoming Territory. Just stopped a while to rest our teams & Pa got in to work. We have been here a month, Pa is helping a man put up hay, getting a dollar & half a day. I am cooking for the men just the man & two hands get 2.50 per week & board. Grandpa & Grandma, Ma & Lyda are camped right at the yard fence. Aunt, I like this country very well but we are going on to Oregon in a few weeks. Pa can t stop until he gets thare. People here don t farm much they are too lazy they have to irrigate, & that is too much trouble for some of them. They could raise oats wheat Rye Barley if they would try corn

13 won t grow here, the seasons are too short. Potatoes grow the nicest kind here & other vegitables would if people would try raise them. I wish you & the boys were out here I think you could do better than you can thare it is pretty wild out here is the worst objection I have but I guess as the country settles up they will become more civilized. Thare are a great portion of the people are Mormons & they don t care for anybody but thare selves. Aunt I can t write much this evening for I have to go to the office yet, you will excuse me for not writing sooner, if you get this in 10 days write to me. We are all well & hope this will find you well excuse this scratching & I will try to do better the next time so I will close for this time. Hoping to hear from you soon. Good By, I Remain as ever, your Affectionate Niece Mollie Zemmer Address me at Cokeville, uinta Co Wyoming Ter Cokeville Wyoming Ter