History of Iowa From the Earliest Times to the Beginning of the Twentieth Century/1/30
AS the pioneer period began to give way to the advancing tide of immigration coming into the Mississippi Valley with the progress of railroad extension, Iowa experienced many of the advantages of incoming capital and gladly welcomed the luxuries brought by material progress.
But among the new settlers there were regrets over the innovations which banished in some degree the universal hospitality of the early days of common poverty, when every cabin was a house of entertainment for the white-top wagon loaded with “new comers,” men, women, and bright-eyed, bare-footed children seeking new homes.
Before turning to the dark days of the Civil War, which even then was beginning to seem slowly gathering in the not distant future, we may take a backward glance at the log-cabin era which will linger in the memory of the gray-haired few who were of that generation.
The early settlements in Iowa were largely made by men and women with little of worldly possessions beyond youth, health, industrious habits and a determination to better their condition in a new country where most of the people were similarly situated.
It was not from the well-to-do classes that the pioneers set forth on their westward journeys, to explore new and unknown countries. The middle-aged man with a family, who from some misfortune had found it a hard struggle in the East to accumulate any surplus over bare subsistence could not endure the thought that his sons must be left with only an inheritance of industry; that his daughters must serve as servants in the families of strangers; that the long years of toil for a frugal living must go on among his descendants through the succeeding generations. He looked around among his neighbors and saw boys no brighter and girls no worthier than his own, enjoying the advantages of education, the best society and all that wealth could bring. His sons and daughters were as dear to him as those who were highly favored by fortune were to their parents. There were no class divisions in America to exclude his children from aspiring to higher positions; no exclusive social circles which they might not enter; the field was open to all. Misfortune or poverty alone kept the ambitious from participation in the luxuries of life. There were great unsettled regions in the far West where industry, perseverance and privations for this generation would give all of these advantages to the children of the poor. It was hard to sever all social and kindred ties and seek among unsettled regions a place to make new homes; endure the stern privations, slavish toil and long, slow waiting for the coming in late years of life of the advantages that the children might some distant day enjoy. The whole West of fifty years ago was dotted over with log cabins, where, amid hardships, sickness, want and unending toil, the best years of the lives of brave self-sacrificing men and women were given to the building up of a new civilization from little more than nature had provided.
The younger generation of the closing years of the Nineteenth Century can know little of the slow progress of evolution which has transformed the bleak prairies of fifty years ago into beautiful farms of unsurpassed fertility, adorned with shady groves, fruitful orchards, large barns, modern homes and generous equipments of the best labor-saving implements. They cannot realize that our network of railroads, telegraphs and telephones has so recently displaced the stage coach, the emigrant wagon drawn by oxen, the weekly horseback mail carrier. That our cities and thriving villages with their modern homes, imposing business blocks and public buildings, with factories, banks, elegant churches and stately school-houses
WILD TURKEYS WERE FINE GAME IN PIONEER TIMES IN IOWA
BUFFALO HUNT ON IOWA PRAIRIES IN 1834
have, within the memory of the older citizens, crowded out the Indian’s wigwam and the pioneer’s log cabin and sod house.
Looking back upon a picture of pioneer life as it was in the years beginning with the early “30s,” “40s” and “50s,” we find a land where the Indians, buffalo, deer and elk were reluctantly retiring before the invasion of the hunter, trapper and pioneer farmer. The well-worn paths of these early inhabitants of the wild groves and boundless prairies were found along the wooded banks of the rivers and creeks.
Before the deadly rifle of the hunters and the snares of the stealthy trappers the red men and wild animals rapidly but most reluctantly retreated. Next came the resounding echoes of the wood-chopper’s axe as the lofty walnut, oak and hickory trees were converted into cabins and fences for new homes of the pioneer and his family.
Toil had no terrors for the early settlers; all were workers. There was a charm in choosing a home in the wild, unsettled country, as the family journeyed on day after day in the solitude of the vast rolling prairies, fording the streams, winding along the trackless ridges, exploring the fringe of woodland that bordered the creeks and rivers; passing beautiful groves that in the distance slowly loomed up like islands in the ocean, where earlier immigrants had camped and staked off their claims. The finding of a spring in an unoccupied grove and taking possession for a home; getting acquainted with the neighbors who had preceded them; exploring the thickets for wild plums, grapes, crab-apples, hazel and hickory nuts. Choosing the site for the cabin, cutting the logs which the neighbors helped to raise into a rude house, hunting the deer, elk, wild turkeys, prairie chickens, ducks and geese for subsistence until sod corn could be raised; going two or three days’ journey to mill or market and camping out nights on the way; constructing tables, bedsteads, stools and shelves; breaking the prairie with five or six yoke of oxen and the huge breaking plow and planting the sod corn. The women of the household were among the constant toilers. In addition to the ordinary housework of later times, living remote from towns, stores or factories, they were artisans and manufacturers as well as housekeepers. They had to spin, weave, cut and make clothing for the family, and often were the teachers of their children. There were compensations for the privations and hard toil. Hospitality was nowhere more general and genuine than among the early settlers. Entertainment of “new comers” was generally free and cordial. The one room of the cabin was never too full to furnish shelter and food for the traveler. Neighbors gathered together for miles around at corn huskings, which ended with a frolic for the youngsters in the evening. Shooting matches were made where the winners went home loaded with turkeys won; camp meetings were held by the light of blazing log piles where old and young assembled to listen to the rude eloquence of the uncultured preacher, lurid with fire and brimstone and endless wrath for sinners, which suited the sturdy pioneers. All joined in singing the grand old hymns with a fervor that raised enthusiasm to the highest pitch.
The annual Fourth of July celebration appealed to the patriotism of every citizen, old and young. The oration of the young lawyer from a distant town was listened to with rapt attention and the national songs resounded through the grove. A picnic dinner spread beneath the sheltering trees, and a country ball in the evening, made up a day of general enjoyment for the entire population.
Wolf hunts in the winter were occasions of wild excitement and political meetings in the country school-house at long intervals brought the widely separated settlers together and served to vary the monotony of their lives of rugged toil.
The malaria generated from decaying vegetation brought fevers and ague and when sickness came, often
THE PIONEER LOG CABIN
“Always Room for One More.”
no doctor was within reach, neighborly help and kindness were never lacking, good-will and sympathy were the substitutes for skilled physicians. When death cast its shadow over the home, willing hands and warm hearts ministered to the stricken family and tenderly performed the last sad offices for the dead. A rude box inclosed the lifeless form borne by neighbors to the lonely grave. Often there was no minister, music or flowers. No carved marble or granite shaft told the name of the dead; the sturdy oak or lofty elm cast a grateful shadow over the grassy mound that alone marked the last resting place of the departed pioneer.
This period in northwestern Iowa lingered along well into the “60s,” as that portion of the State was the last to be settled, owing to the general absence of forests. The prairies were vast in extent, generally inclined to be level and in many places defective in surface drainage, with frequent ponds and marshes, the home of the muskrat. It was not until the homestead law was enacted by Congress that people began to venture out upon the great bleak prairies of northwestern Iowa to make homes. Mostly destitute of timber for cabins and fencing, with few deep ravines for shelter from the fierce blizzards that swept over them in winter, they long remained unoccupied after other portions of the State were fairly well settled. But when the time came in which the head of the family could secure a hundred and sixty acres of government land, as a home, for fourteen dollars, the hardy pioneers began to venture out upon the treeless plains and devise ways to live without timber. Then it was that sod houses and stables were invented. They were made by running a broad-shire breaking-plow over the wet prairie where the tough fiber of the sod of generations had accumulated, cutting it into long strips and turning them over. These strips of sod were then cut up with the spades into lengths suitable to handle and laid up like brick into walls for houses and stables. A few poles brought from the nearest timber supported a roof of slough hay, skillfully placed on like thatching, and a comfortable shelter was made for man and beast. The ground was smoothed off for a floor and until boards could be procured for doors, the skins of deer and wolves shut out the wind and snow. Then it was that the swarms of muskrats which inhabited every pond were utilized to supply the family with groceries. Muskrat pelts were always salable for cash at the nearest town, where buyers had agents to gather up all kinds of furs and hides of wild animals. During the first year of life on the prairie, before crops could be raised for market, thousands of homestead families were dependent upon trapping muskrats for the cash they must have to buy bacon and coffee. The homestead was exempt from taxes; deer and prairie chickens furnished meat for portions of the year; with industrious mending and the skins of wild animals the clothing was made to do long service; but some money was indispensable for fuel and such scant groceries as were indulged in.
Most of the homestead settlers were many miles from timber or coal. Their teams were usually oxen, which could live on prairie grass and wild hay, and break up the sod for cultivation. It was always a perilous journey in the winter to the nearest town or timber, or coal bank, for fuel or other supplies. It must be made generally by one man alone, over a trackless prairie covered with deep snow. No human foresight could guard against danger from the fearful blizzards of flinty snow driven with an ever-increasing wind and an ever-falling temperature that were so common in early days. With the sun obscured, nothing was left to guide the bewildered driver toward his destination, as the changing wind often misled him and many were the victims who perished in all of the early years of settling the great prairies.
Another danger that was encountered by the first settlers on the prairies came from the annual fires. Early
CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD
STAGE COACH ENCOUNTERS A PRAIRIE FIRE
in the fall frosts killed the wild grass and in a few weeks it became dry and would readily burn. Many of the recent settlers were not aware of the danger and neglected to take the proper precaution for safety of their buildings, stacks and even the families. Emigrants crossing the great prairies and camping at night where water could be found, late in the autumn, were often the victims of carelessness or ignorance of danger. There can be no more fearful sight or situation than the approach of a prairie fire before a strong wind in the night. The horizon is lighted up in the distance with a vivid glow, and dense columns of black smoke ascend in darkening clouds as the long line of fire circles far to the right and left. At first the sight is grand beyond description as the rays of the glowing red rise higher and higher and the smoke rolls upward in increasing density. But soon an ominous roar is heard in the distance as the hurricane of fire is driven with an ever-increasing wind, exceeding the speed of a race horse, and the stifling atmosphere glows with the smothering heat of a sirocco from a parched desert. Escape for man or beast is impossible unless a back fire has been started in time to meet the advancing tornado of resistless heat that can only be staid by a counter-fire. Houses, barns, stacks, fences, bridges and all animal life are quickly destroyed as the hot blasts strike them and in a moment the ground is left a blackened, blistering waste of desolation. The ruin of the camp or farm is as complete as the wreck of a burning town, or the track of a tornado. Scores of people and hundreds of homes were annual victims of these fires in the early years of scattered farms on the great prairies, before experience brought to emigrants and settlers the wisdom to protect their lives and property by timely back-fires as soon as the frost had killed the grass.
It was during these years of hard winters when the homestead settlers ventured far out on the wild prairies at great distances from timber and before railroads had penetrated the great plains, that they began to use corn and slough hay for fuel. There was no market for corn within one or two days’ travel and when the market was reached, eight or ten cents a bushel was all that a farmer could get for his load. A large load would sometimes bring him from four to five dollars.
This was the pay for raising forty bushels of corn on an acre of his farm, husking it and transporting the load a journey of two or three days with his team. The proceeds of his load would pay for about a ton of coal which he must draw back to his home and which would furnish about as much heat as the load of corn sold. It did not take the settler long to see that he might far better burn the corn at home and save a perilous journey in mid-winter over the bleak prairies, often at the risk of his life. He learned to twist the long coarse slough hay into ropes with which to start his corn fire and utilized a home grown vegetable production to furnish heat in place of the expensive foreign mineral production of the same earth upon which he lived. Persons of the luxurious homes of distant countries and states read of the burning of corn, in the morning paper by a comfortable grate fire, and were horrified at the reckless destruction of food by the western prairie farmers.
As the railroads were slowly extended westward in Iowa settlements were made along the projected lines far out on the wild prairies in anticipation of their coming. Towns were laid out along the lines of survey and a new impetus was given to all branches of business.
The public school system of Iowa had been a gradual evolution from the First Territorial Legislature which, in 1839, took the incipient steps toward its organization, by the passage of an act which provided that:
The districts were in charge of trustees who were required to maintain a school at least three months of each year. This was before many of the older States had provided for a public school system supported by taxation and made free to the pupils. The first act providing for taxation to meet the expenses of such schools required that a portion of the funds for their support should be assessed against the parents of the pupils in attendance.
From time to time more liberal taxes were authorized until the schools were finally sustained from the proceeds of the lands granted by the general government, and taxes levied upon the property of the district or townships. In addition to these sources of income the State received five per cent, of the net proceeds of the sale of all public lands lying within its limits. During the pioneer period this amounted to a large sum annually as the lands found purchasers.
The first State Constitution also provided that the estates of deceased persons who died without leaving a will, or heirs, should inure to the public school fund. That the money paid by persons as an equivalent for exemption from military duty, and the clear proceeds of all fines collected in the several counties for any breach of penal laws, should go to the school fund. This provision was also incorporated in the Constitution of 1857. When the State was admitted into the Union in 1846, there were 20,000 children of school age and something more than four hundred school districts had been organized. In 1857 the number of districts had increased to 3,275. The State in 1858 authorized the holding of Teachers’ Institutes, lasting not less than six days, when not less than thirty teachers should desire them; and an appropriation of $1,000 was made to defray the expenses.
While great progress had been made in the character of the district school buildings the report of the Secretary of the State Board of Education shows there were eight hundred and ninety-three log school-houses still in use in the State at the close of the year 1859. The total number of schools at this time was 4,927. The average attendance of pupils was 77,113 while the number entitled to attend was 127,517. There were employed 6,374 teachers of which 3,155 were women. The average compensation for men teachers was $5.94 per week, for women $3.82, for the year 1859. The aggregate amount paid the teachers of the entire State was $445,467.88; and the value of the school-houses was $1,206,840.24, while the number of volumes in the school libraries was 2,325. The permanent school fund was now estimated at more than $2,000,000 and yearly increasing.
The report of the State University at this date shows a total fund arising from the sale of lands amounting to $110,982.11, while the land unsold is estimated to be worth $61,996. The University at this time had a Preparatory Department, a Normal Department and a Model School. The number of students in all of the departments for the year was one hundred and eighty-two, and the number of professors, including the president, was six. The only building at this time was the old Capitol, but a boarding hall was in process of erection. The library contained 1,410 volumes. The salary of the president was $2,000, but in 1860 was reduced to $1,500. The five professors received salaries of $1,000 each.
The annual appropriation of interest on the permanent school fund was in 1849, in round numbers, $6,137, and in 1859 it amounted to $145,034.
The Agricultural College was not yet organized, but a farm of six hundred and forty-seven acres had been purchased in Story County, where the location had been made, and a farm house had been erected. An office was kept in the Capitol under charge of the secretary for the tion and distribution of new and promising seeds and plants sent out among the farmers of the State for experimental purposes.
The amount of improved lands in the farms of the State at this time was reported at nearly 4,000,000 of acres out of a total acreage in the State of 33,000,000. It is estimated that there was unimproved land entered at this date and taxable amounting to nearly 24,000,000 of acres of which nearly 16,000,000 belonged to non-residents. The assessed value of unimproved land averaged $2.75 per acre. The average price of wheat was forty cents per bushel; corn, twelve cents; oats, fifteen cents; potatoes, twenty-five cents; and hay, $1.50 per ton. There were produced 3,000,000 gallons of sorghum syrup, valued at thirty-three cents per gallon.
Barbed wire fencing had not then come into use and the farmers were experimenting with hedge plants of osage orange, hawthorn, willow and honey locust. Others were making fences by ditching. But the common fence was of rails or boards and was the great expense in making farms, costing more than all other improvements combined.
Stage lines conveyed passengers, mail and express packages in various directions from the terminus of the railroad. Freight lines were established to transport goods, lumber and coal to the chief towns of the interior and western portions of the State and bring back farm produce for the eastern markets.
The population of the State had now reached 674,913, showing an increase in ten years of 482,700. The aggregate value of the farms had reached, in round numbers, nearly $120,000,000; while the total value of farm implements and machinery was more than $6,000,000. The value of live stock was more than $22,000,000; the corn crop made a yield of more than 42,000,000 of bushels; wheat, 8,500,000 bushels; oats, 5,887,000 bushels; potatoes, 2,800,000 bushels. The dairy products were, in round numbers, 12,000,000 pounds of butter, and 918,000 pounds of cheese. Of hay there were 813,000 tons, largely made from prairie grass.
The earlier settlers were building frame houses and barns. Pretentious business blocks, substantial churches, better school-houses and tasteful private dwellings were beginning to take the place in village and city of the log structures which everywhere prevailed in earlier years. Factories were relieving the overworked women in making cloth for the family clothing. Farmers were buying reapers to displace the grain cradles and mowers were taking the place of the scythe. Pine lumber was coming down the Mississippi River in huge rafts, supplying boards to relieve the slavish toil of rail-making for fencing, and lumber for farm buildings in place of logs. Improved cattle and swine were driving out the scrubs, while spring wagons and carriages were slowly coming into use in place of the saddle horse and lumber wagon. The young men in many localties wore factory made clothing in place of the home made butternut or linsey-woolsey, and the women dressed themselves in calico and muslin, which was a desirable and comfortable substitute for the home-woven fabrics of pioneer times. This relief from spinning and weaving gave the women and girls a little rest from the never ending drudgery of the household and leisure in evenings to read. Many ambitious girls now found time to study and prepare for teaching the country schools.
High schools and colleges were affording facilities for better education and the bright farm girls began to crowd out the ancient men teachers who had long ruled with the birch rod.
Boys from the farm were beginning to turn their eyes to the learned professions where social advantages were within their reach and visions of public offices in the future spurred them to acquire knowledge of the world in broader fields than those of the father’s acres.
PIONEER WOMEN SPINNING
PIONEER WOMEN OF IOWA WOVE THE CLOTH FOR THE GARMENTS OF THE FAMILY
The slow but sure accumulation of property on the fertile prairie farms had brought a degree of prosperity to all classes and there was gradual relief from continuous toil and rigid economy that was unavoidable in the pioneer years.
The new system of banks had for the first time furnished a safe currency for the transaction of business and eastern capital was now seeking investment in the State, facilitating the building of railroads and thus furnishing better markets. The liberal grants of public lands for railroad building attracted the attention of outside capitalists and far-seeing men realized that these fertile millions of acres must become valuable as they were made accessible to markets by the extension of railroads.
The hard times beginning with 1857 were passing away, and a steady and heavy immigration was annually coming into the State in search of cheap homes. Thousands of eastern men of wealth were sending money where the legal rate of interest was ten per cent, and the security as fertile lands as any in the world.
The reports of the discovery of rich gold deposits in the eastern range of the Rocky Mountains, near Pike’s Peak in 1859, attracted thousands of Iowa people to that region, and it is likely that these departures in search of gold nearly equaled the immigration from eastern States into Iowa. But the tide soon turned back and most of the gold seekers returned to the prairies of Iowa again, better content to rely upon the steady gains derived with certainty from the fertile soil of well-tilled farms.