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CHAPTER XII
MOVE
TO THE
FARM--BUILD OUR
OWN
HOUSE--WORK ON
THE
FARM--GO TO
CONFERENCE--GO
HOME WITH A
DRUNKEN
WOMAN--RETURN TO
THE
PASTORATE--APPOINTED
TO THE SCHUYLER
CIRCUIT AND
WORK
THERE--LOSE
ANOTHER
CHILD--OVERFLOWING
OF THE PLATTE
RIVER.
A GOOD team was
engaged, and I went after our goods, all the way to my recent
charge and back alone. The round trip by wagon-road was fully two
hundred miles, and half of this distance with a heavy load. The
brethren were wonderfully surprised to learn that I had come after
our goods to move them home; for they fully expected me to return
and serve them another year. The goods were soon placed in the
wagon, and I began my return trip to the farm. After eight days'
absence and seven hard days' drive, I reached home, there to
remain for at least one year. Storing our goods in a brother's
granary and house, I went to work building a house of my own. As I
had but little money, the work must be done with my own hands.
Having served an apprenticeship at the
car-
288
penter trade in helping to build parsonages, I was able to do
my own work on the house, and it was a pretty good job for a
jackknife carpenter. I worked daily early and late that the house
might be ready to occupy before cold weather set in. Inside of six
weeks it was so nearly completed that we moved into it, and
settled down in our own house for the winter. By constant hard
labor from the time of beginning to build until moving, I lost
about forty pounds of adipose.
Having but little money, we were pinched for
the necessaries of life during the winter, and, having raised no
grain, I picked corn on the shares to get feed for my horses.
After worrying through the winter the best we could, we were
greatly rejoiced at the approach of spring, when, with all my
strength, I began to improve the farm. My two small ponies were
too light for breaking prairie alone, so I announced that I would
trade my buggy for a horse, thinking that, by putting one large
horse with the ponies, it would make a pretty good team. A
neighbor of mine, and another man who was a stranger to me,
hearing that I had offered my buggy for a
19
horse, came to my house with an old gray horse which they
offered for the buggy, provided I would give them ten dollars to
boot, which I refused to do. As the horse was very poor, I
hesitated about trading at all. But they said it only needed a
little care to put it in good flesh; that it had made a trip on
the plains, where it got no grain, which was the cause of its poor
appearance. Knowing but little of the man, yet I was foolish
enough to think he would not cheat me out of my buggy, and I
traded with him. After working the horse one-half day, I found
that he was an old, worthless, crippled creature, not worth
feeding, and I gave him away that he might be taken from the
place.
Here is one case where a neighbor took
advantage of my ignorance in regard to horseflesh and of my
confidence in him, and cheated me out of about one hundred dollars
by lying to me. Up to this time I thought that, as I was a poor
preacher, surely my neighbors at least would not take advantage of
my confidence in them, and lie me out of so much property. After
all, this was a good lesson, though dearly bought; for since then
I have looked out for such liars and
cut-throats, and have not allowed them to take me in so easily.
I learned at least that I was not a success as a horse-trader.
Another horse was bought, and put with the
ponies, and I went to work turning over the sod at a rapid rate.
During the summer I broke up about forty acres and put a part of
it into sodcorn, doing all the work myself, besides many other
little tasks about the farm, and preaching to the people on
Sundays.
Working so hard without being used to it,
brought on a fit of the ague, which laid me on the shelf for
several clays; but I was soon out and at labor again. By putting
in a very hard year's work, my land was now in shape to be of some
financial benefit.
While I was at home on the farm, the
Methodists held a camp-meeting on the Little Blue River bottom, a
few miles south of the little town of Edgar, to which we went.
Having no tent, a header box, that was made for drawing grain from
a header to the stack, was fitted up for the occasion. Putting
this on a wagon, and stretching a cloth over it for a roof, we
moved to the camp-ground. By making a ladder on which to
climb into the temporary house, we had a comfortable place
during the meeting. At the close of the meeting, to get ready for
moving home we had only to hook the horses to the wagon, and drive
away. Though the country was new and the people poor, we had a
good and profitable meeting.
Conference time came, we rented our farm for
fifty dollars, and prepared for another move. This year Lincoln
was the seat of Conference, and, as usual, we drove there with the
ponies. Reaching the seat of Conference, we were assigned to a Mr.
Cole's for entertainment, and found a very pleasant home during
the Conference session.
One ridiculous incident, which took place at
this time, I must relate, and that to the shame of the city of
Lincoln. One day, while we were at the dinner-table, a woman came
to the door and made a complaint about something that had taken
place at her home. She was present but a short time when we
discovered that she was so much under the influence of liquor as
to be crazy, and hardly able to stand alone. After talking a few
minutes, she flopped down on the
doorstep and lay there as if dead. The lady of the house tried
to persuade her to get up and go home, but could do nothing with
her. Seeing that something must be done, I went out and told her
to get up and go home; but still she made no movement, at which I
told her if she did n't leave, I should call the police and have
her taken away. At the threat of calling the police she made an
attempt to rise, but could not. By assisting her, she was enabled
to rise to her feet, but could not walk alone; so, taking her by
the arm, I led her to her home, which was but a short distance
away. The reader can have but little idea how mortified I felt
leading home a miserable, drunken woman, and passing respectable
people, who knew nothing of the circumstances. As soon as she was
in her own room in a chair, I left the house about as fast as a
preacher ever gets away from any place, meanwhile looking about to
see if any one was watching me. Shame on a town, State, or
Government that licenses the selling of the vile stuff that ruins
the lives and homes of its citizens! I can not see why it is not
just as reasonable to license any other kind of murder as that of
killing with alcohol.
This year I was appointed to the Schuyler
work, in Colfax County, another very large circuit, but of
considerable strength. Again we journeyed about one hundred miles,
with our goods on a wagon, stopping at night wherever the people
would take us in. On reaching our work, we found friends to
welcome us to our new field of labor and to their homes. Here let
me call the attention of all Methodists who read these lines to
the importance of Churches kindly receiving their new pastor when
he first reaches his charge. Remember that he is human, and needs
your sympathy and kindly greetings. Perhaps you do receive him
kindly; but if you show it in no way, how is he to know that he is
welcome? In some way let him know it, or he may think to the
contrary. By not making his coming among you pleasant at first,
you may cripple him in his usefulness among you for all time to
come., How many times our hearts have been made to ache by those
who ought to have been comforters and supporters, while we were
yet strangers on the charge!
At Schuyler we found a good-sized parsonage
and a small church-building. This was my
eighth year in the Conference, and my first charge that
possessed a Methodist church building. At the Leigh appointment,
however, there is another church edifice; so, you see, we are
coming up in the world, or rather getting away from the frontier,
and entering into Methodist churches. At this time the Schuyler
Circuit embraced Schuyler, Leigh, and two other appointments in
schoolhouses. The work was large and difficult to manage, with a
great deal of travel through the cold and heat.
One Sunday, while going to one of my
appointments, I overtook a German who was traveling on the
highway, and invited him to ride. Soon after he had taken his
seat, I plainly saw that he was under the influence of liquor.
Gazing intently at me, he asked if I was a preacher, and, on being
answered affirmatively, he said, "Vot beez you? a Catolic?" I
said, "No, I am a Methodist minister," to which he responded, "I
beez a Metodist too." I could not surely tell whether he was a
Methodist or not, but I knew his breath did not smell like
one.
Soon after we were thoroughly settled, we
engaged in a revival work at Schuyler, where
we had a good meeting, and the Church was considerably
strengthened spiritually, numerically, and financially. At this
time Schuyler was largely a Bohemian town, and handled more beer
and whisky than almost anything else. There being eight saloons
and but four churches, it was a hard town to work in, and a very
unpleasant place to live in, because of those
drunkard-manufacturing shops.
This year I was greatly afflicted with a sore
throat, but continued to travel and preach three times a day,
thinking but little of it. I had previously injured my throat by
hard singing, and it was now beginning to affect and weaken my
speaking powers. How easy for a man to injure his usefulness by
doing too much!
Another sad and severe affliction came upon
us while here, in the sickness and death of another dear babe.
Some few months after settling in Schuyler, our child, then about
one year old, was taken very sick, and we thought it could live
but a few days; but it lingered along for several weeks, when on
the fourth day of August, 1880, its little soul left the afflicted
body and returned to God who gave it. Again the cloud of
afflic-
tion hung heavily over our home; but the Lord blessed us in our
afflictions.
- The lamb we loved and cherished so,
- Its wings it did unfold,
- And went to where all children go,
- Up to the land of gold.
- In Schuyler's Cemetery, there lies
- Its little form alone,
- Although its soul in Paradise
- Doth dwell around the throne.
- Now we have two little boys in heaven, awaiting our
approach.
Some very pleasant incidents cheered us while
we were here, which we shall long remember, and they will be as
bright spots in our lives as long as we live. One I must mention.
The brethren saw how much I needed books (for as yet I had but
few), and made me a present of a work entitled "Universal
Knowledge," which was a help to me in my work, and which I esteem
more highly than if received in any other manner. Then, there were
incidents that were not so pleasant, one of which I will notice.
In looking over the charge I heard of certain persons who were
holding Church letters from the Methodist Episcopal Church. In
company with one
of the class-leaders, I called on those persons and persuaded
them to give me their letters. I felt, in accomplishing this, that
I had done a good day's work. Telling some of the brethren about
it, I noticed that they smiled as much as to say, "Well, you've
got an elephant on your hands." In a short time word came to me
that I had better look after my new members, for they were
drinking, swearing, and fighting. Then I wished they were where I
had first found them. Taking the class-leader who had accompanied
me when I received the letters, I went to the parties and told
them my errand, requesting them to repent, which they refused to
do. I then told them they should be brought to trial and expelled,
or they might withdraw from the Church. After spending nearly half
a day with them, I succeeded in persuading them to withdraw and
save further trouble. After obtaining their consent to withdraw, I
went home, feeling much better than when I had received their
letters. From that time to this I have not been so ready to hunt
up old Church letters; and yet I suppose we ought to hunt them up
and take them, even
though next day required to expel the persons presenting
them.
This year ended, and we were able to report
considerable prosperity on the charge. For the first time in my
ministry I could take the cars at home and ride in them all the
way to the seat of Conference. By this time, however, railroads
were getting common, and ministers on the way to Conference came
in cars from nearly all parts of the State. It is wonderful how
rapidly this country has developed within the last few years, and
how people by thousands have moved in and occupied the land, until
there is not a vacant piece to be found anywhere in all the wild
country I traveled-over a few years ago!
This year, 1880, Conference was held at
Nebraska City, a beautiful town on the Missouri River. The Minutes
of the Conference shows one hundred and ten members for Schuyler
Charge, and $593 on salary. At this Conference, Schuyler was made
a station, and I was returned for another year. For the first time
I am now a stationed preacher, exempt from riding through the cold
as before. So far as traveling is
concerned, it was by far the easiest year of my ministry up to
this time. Of course, I had to do more reading and make greater
preparation, but I had much more time in which to do it.
This Conference year was one of trial and
discouragement to me. My throat became so sore that the doctors
told me I would have to abandon the ministry altogether; so I
concluded to locate and go home. During the winter season there
was a great deal of sickness and a number of deaths, and being
called upon to attend so many funeral services, I preached more
frequently than usual. The winter was very stormy and exceedingly
cold, with a heavy snow on the ground nearly all the season, and
the winds, blowing much of the time from the north, added to the
unpleasantness. During the most severe storms of winter I was
called upon to attend funerals far out in the country, and this
was wearing on my constitution and injurious to my throat.
Informing my presiding elder of my intention to locate, he
persuaded me to try it another year; so when Conference convened,
I reported for duty. This year $346 was reported on salary and
forty-nine members in full connec-
tion. Here was a station with only forty-nine members, and yet
they kept the preacher from starving, and even from going
hungry.
While at this place I was blessed with a
goodly number of wedding fees; but there was one which turned out
even worse than the one previously mentioned, which I must not
pass unnoticed. The bride's father came to the parsonage, and
requested me to come to his house in the evening and perform the
ceremony. At the appointed hour I reported for duty. After
considerable delay, the couple came upon the floor, and were
joined together as husband and wife. After the ceremony the
company was treated to cake, etc., and we had a good social time.
When the time came to go home, I was kindly waited upon, and took
my leave, but without a fee. Thinking that the young man had
forgotten it, I gave it but little attention, supposing he would
hand it to me at some other time. But I am still waiting; for the
young man has not yet so much as made mention of it to me.
There is something very peculiar about the
two weddings where I received no fee. The first couple lived
together but a short time, and sepa-
rated. Not long after the second couple were married they were
separated by the husband's being sent to the penitentiary for
stealing. I have married a great many couples; but these are the
only two that failed to give a fee, and, with two exceptions, the
only ones, as far as I know, who have turned out badly in their
married relation. "A man's sin will find him out." Let the young
men who read these lines take warning.
The town of Schuyler is situated in the great
Platte Valley, and at times is completely surrounded with water
and entirely cut off from all communication with the surrounding
country. In our second spring at the place there was a great deal
of rain and melting of the snow, which caused the Platte to
overflow its banks and do much damage to the farming community and
not a little to the town.
One evening, when the snow was fast melting
and filling the creeks and ravines with water, we received word
from Columbus--a town above on the river--warning us to look out
for the flood, as it was coming. When the news reached our town,
there was a great hustling among the farmers to secure their
families and stock.
The people in town were wonderfuly (sic)
excited, and many of them left their homes for places of safety on
higher ground and in larger buildings, which for them was a wise
move; for during that night the flood came. As there was a great
deal of lee in the river, the oncoming tide could be heard for
miles. While yet more than two miles away, we could hear the
rumbling waters and grinding ice, that made a frightful roaring as
it came. Then, to add to the terror of the mighty roaring, the
farmers were yelling at their cattle while driving them into a
safe place. The cattle were bellowing as if wonderfully
frightened, the sheep were bleating, hogs squealing, and dogs
howling and barking, adding so greatly to the confusion and
uproar, that for awhile it seemed as if the town people, appalled
with fear, would take flight to the high prairie. In the midst of
the confusion, I made preparation for cutting a way for my family
through the roof, if need be, and then retired and slept until
morning, supposing that, if necessary, we would be awakened in
time to make our escape. On awaking the next morning, we learned
that the water had advanced into the town, and run down through
the main
street, and that it came within one block of the parsonage.
Though it flowed in different places through
the town, there was little damage done, only a few small houses
having been turned around by the large pieces of ice which struck
them as they passed. But there were thousands of dollars lost
through the flood among the farmers. Some farms were almost
entirely washed away, or covered with sand so deep as to ruin them
altogether. By morning the water had fallen considerably, and some
of the farmers returned to their homes. One man, who lived close
to the river, but on a little ridge higher than the land around
him, took his family home and came to town to work, leaving them
alone. In a day or two, in the evening, the waters overflowed the
valley from bluff to bluff, and again surrounded this family. The
stream was full of ice, and it was impossible to send a boat to
rescue them. There was the mother, with her little children, on a
narrow strip of land, the water extending more than a mile on
either side of her little house, almost touching the building, and
one piece of ice did slightly strike against it. Her husband
was almost wild as he looked across the waters at the lamp in
his own window, expecting every moment to see the light
extinguished and his wife and children swept away by the flood. As
long as her light could be seen, it was known that she was safe.
At the dawning of morning her house could still be seen, and, as
the waters were going down, we knew there was no further danger.
One family left the house with a barrel of lime in it, which, when
the water entered, in slacking, took fire, and consumed the
building and all its contents, leaving the family without a
home.
Conference ended, and I was returned to the
Albion Charge, which I had left three years before--just three
years to a day from the time I left it until I returned to take
charge of the work again.
Before laying aside my pen, and bidding adieu
to my readers, I must give a little sketch of our experience in a
storm while spending the second year on the farm. After serving
Albion the second time, we spent another year at home.
In the year 1883, we planted wheat,
barley,
20
and corn, and they were growing nicely, giving promise of an
early and abundant harvest. It seemed that better prospects for
crops were never seen than we had at that time, and it continued
so until the seventeenth of June, when everything in the shape of
grain was swept away. In the morning I went around the field of
growing grain with my brother, and he remarked that he had never
seen such a heavy crop of small grain. In the evening a dark cloud
appeared in the southwest, and seemed to be coming rapidly toward
our place. Our children were nearly three miles from the farm at
school, and it was about time for them to be on their way home.
The clouds continued to look so angry and threatening that it was
thought best to take a horse and buggy and go after them. Hastily
a horse was hitched to a light rig, and I went forward and met
them about half way home, much frightened by the coming storm.
Taking them into the buggy, I turned the horse about in the
direction of home. Seeing that the storm was fast approaching and
roaring tremendously, I put the horse to his utmost speed,
determined, if possible, to reach home before the storm over
took us, and succeeded. Just as the children were entering the
house and I the barn with the horses, the storm struck, and the
hail began to fall and bound as high as a man's head, continuing
to come thicker and faster until the air was full of hailstones,
many of them more than seven inches in circumference. The wind
blew harder and harder, and one of the mightiest wind and hail
storms that it was ever my lot to witness was upon us, beating
everything to pieces. The wind blew a hurricane, and the hail fell
astonishingly large and fast, coming with such force that the
windows on the side next to the storm were broken to pieces. When
the windows were broken out in the upper part of the house, the
wind swept in and took off the east side of the roof, and the
water and hail poured in upon the floor, flooding everything in
the house. The water came in at the windows and doors that were
blown open, until it was ankle-deep on the floor. There were hail,
water, glass, and plaster, all mingled together; an unpleasant
picture to behold.
While the storm was raging, and at its worst,
I was in a straw-barn with the horses. During
the hardest puffs and whirlings of the wind, it seemed, every
moment, that stable, horses, and I would all go up together, and
be carried away in the storm. On going to the house when the storm
was nearly over, I found the roof gone, and the folks in the
pantry did not even know that it had been blown away. Half of the
roof was lifted and hurled to the ground, smashed into hundreds of
pieces, and some of the fragments were carried more than a mile
from the place. The wind was so terrific that it carried hogs,
plows, and many other things, into the cornfield. There was a new
storm-door on the west side of the house next to the storm, which
was broken by the hail. It was a common paneled door, and three of
the panels were broken and two of them knocked out. The doors were
not only broken, but the shingles and siding on the side of the
house toward the storm were literally beaten to pieces, and there
was hardly a whole shingle or piece of siding to be found on that
side of the house. The house was so battered, indeed, that it had
the appearance of being fired into with grapeshot.
Some two hours after the storm we meas-
ured a hailstone seven inches and a half in circumference, and
it was thought that there were many, which, if measured at first,
would have attained fully nine inches. Previous to this, if any
one had told me of the possibility of such a tremendous hailstorm,
I would hardly have believed him; now I am prepared to believe
almost anything in regard to storms.
In the morning before the disaster the
cornfields were beautiful and green, and the small grain was
headed out; but in the evening there was not a sign that corn had
ever been on the ground. The neighbors told me that it would soon
spring up from the roots, and flourish again. Sure enough, in a
few days the corn was out and covering the field as before. The
next fall there was a wonderfully heavy crop of corn; but the
storm had put it back so far that it hardly ripened. I sold mine
to a cattle-feeder for a fair price, and had good returns from the
hail-smitten corn, after all. The day after the storm the
neighbors came and reroofed our house, and we were soon as
comfortable as ever, and went on with our work.
This ends my frontier work, but not my
labors in the ministry. I have now been in the good work a
little over thirty years, and am still at it. But my health and
strength will not permit me to do full pastoral work as in former
years, and I am doing it on a small scale.
In those long, weary years of toil, I have
seen the sunshine as well as the cloud. I have learned by
experience that the darkest clouds have the brightest lining. In
looking over the past I find more comfort in calling to mind the
places where I have laid the foundation for my beloved Zion than
in thinking of any other places I have served. Though I have
endured hardships and deprivation in laboring on the outposts,
they have brought me a richer reward than all other fields on
which I have labored.
What a change has come over the country since
1862, when I first made my home in the then Far West! Then there
were thousands of acres of unoccupied land stretching into the far
distance, to be had merely for the settling upon and cultivating
of them. A large part of Nebraska was then wild and uninhabited by
white men. The Red Man was lord of the plains. In the valleys and
on the banks of the creeks and
rivers were then seen the canvas villages of the savage. The
Indian hunter chased the buffalo, antelope, elk, and other game.
The painted warrior with his shield, tomahawk, and scalping-knife,
rode his foaming steed, hurrying on to bloodshed and death, giving
the war-cry as he rattled on in pursuit of the fleeing enemy. The
wooing song of the Indian maiden rang through the woods and across
the plains, charming and captivating her lover. That song, though
admired by her people, to the ear of one used to music resembled
the cry of distress rather than the strains of love. The yells and
cries of the papoose, while playing hide-and-seek in the brush,
reached the ear of the lonely traveler crossing the prairie-a
babbling sound, more resembling the howling of wolves than the
playful cries of children. Buffaloes by the thousands subsisted,
summer and winter, on the buffalo-grass, and much of the time were
fat enough for beef. The elk, deer, antelope, and wolf were among
the inhabitants of this country.
How is it now? The sod-house and dug-out have
given way to the beautiful frame residence. The dug-out and sod
schoolhouses have been
supplanted by good school-buildings all over the country.
Instead of sod churches and underground meeting-houses, we now
have large, capacious church-buildings. Instead of the piercing
war-cry of the Red Man, the "hurrah" for our thriving America
comes from a thousand throats all over this vast domain. The Red
Man's pony has yielded to the plow-horse and the roadster that is
driven by thousands of cultured wives and daughters of white men.
The buffalo is crowded out by the domestic ox. The deer and
antelope are replaced by sheep and hogs. Though the songs of the
young women of the wild West are no more heard on the prairie, the
songs of our own native girls swell upon the breeze, and are far
more charming, as in our churches they sing "Nearer, my God, to
thee," or "Sweet by and by," than all the songs of the daughters
of the plains. In place of the dirty, half-naked children of the
desert, playing and growing up in ignorance, our own children are
making the schoolgrounds ring with their merry laughter, while
both mind and body are being trained for usefulness. No one, who
has not seen the past and
present condition of this country, can fully realize the
changes that have taken place.
Now, if the reader will kindly pass by the
imperfections he may find while reading this my simple story, and
gather the good he may chance to notice, I shall be gratified, and
think that at least some good has been accomplished.
Well, as I am only to write of A
FRONTIER LIFE , I
will close, for I have now tarried so long in one place that
civilization has overtaken and gone far beyond me. Therefore, I
must say, Good-bye.
© 2001 for NEGenWeb by Pam Rietsch, Ted &
Carole Miller
