The Morrills and Reminiscences - C. H. Morrill

In the spring of 1867 I planted about forty acres. The season was wet, I did a poor job of farming, and my crop was almost a total failure. One of my horses died, leaving me without a team. I purchased a blind horse on credit, and in 1868 put in about sixty acres. This year also was very wet and crops again failed. Gradually I was getting into debt. This indebtedness was almost always for food and clothing. I was indebted to my neighbors for corn, wheat, and meat and it was impossible for me to pay them. Naturally my credit became poorer as time went on, and I was soon considered, by those living near me, as financially irresponsible and not worthy of credit. In 1868 our son, Charles Albert, was born.
In 1869 there was another partial crop failure due to wet weather. For the first time I was refused credit at the store at Hooks Point, our nearest town, for twenty-five cents' worth of coffee, and I was informed that I was on the blacklist, as I did not pay my debts. To me this was a terrible blow; winter was coming on and we were almost without shoes and clothing. Thinking I might obtain credit in towns farther away, where I was not as well known, I went to Boone, Webster City, and Mineral Ridge. Wherever I went my name was found in the blacklist book, and I was refused credit. I purchased from my neighbors, on credit, old saddle skirts with which I half-soled shoes for myself and wife. For over two years we had no clothing except that which we made for ourselves from brown denim. My wife even made mittens and caps

for me from old, worn clothing. For nearly two years we had no wheat flour -- to obtain wheat flour I must have cash; but I could purchase, on credit, a few bushels of corn from distant neighbors who did not know my financial condition, and could get it ground at a mill near by.
While I was in this desperate condition, I lost another horse which hung itself in the stable. After several weeks' search I found a poor "crow-bait" that I could purchase on time by agreeing to pay twice the real value of the animal. In 1870 our condition was most deplorable. During the summer I found a tract of one hundred and twenty acres of land that I could purchase for two hundred dollars by paying one hundred dollars down, the balance in two years. I succeeded in borrowing one hundred dollars from my uncle, John Henry Morrill of Rockford, Illinois. The season started with fine, prospects for crops. During the latter part of the summer I succeeded in disposing of my newly acquired land for nine hundred dollars. After paying my debts I still had five hundred dollars.
After several days of discussion, my wife and I decided to invest the entire sum of five hundred dollars in young calves, which at weaning time could be purchased at five dollars a head. To do this we would have to continue living on very little, and deprive ourselves of every comfort. We were young and full of hope, and we concluded that by making this sacrifice we would soon be on the road to prosperity. At that time my only ambition was to acquire a comfortable

home. All around our farm were large tracts of land owned by non-residents. This land was free to settlers for pasturage, and for cutting hay. By the time frost came in the fall of &870 I had more than one hundred head of calves, and sufficient hay to feed them through the winter. I was so afraid some of these young cattle might die that I almost slept with them. My crops in 1870 were very good, and with my debts paid, and my young cattle growing, I felt myself on the high road to success.
I remember well the day I rode from neighbor to neighbor to pay my debts. Nearly every man thanked me and said, "Morrill, we are glad you are making good. We never expected you to be able to pay us." This was one of the happiest days of my life. My debts were all paid and my honor as a man was redeemed. After that I was able to look my neighbors in the face without feeling that they had good reason to think I had obtained credit from them under false pretenses. By the year 1871 I had a fine herd of cattle, and my credit was established so that when necessary I could borrow small sums of money from the banks. In 1872 I sold a bunch of fat cattle for one thousand dollars.
The experience I had in Iowa was just the lesson I needed to make me a careful, successful man. It taught me methods of economy and thrift, the value of money, and more than all, the value of credit, which in a very large degree means character and honor. Every young man will succeed if he has the elements of

success in him, if he has fair judgment, is thrifty, and deals honorably with his fellow men. He not only must see opportunities as they present themselves, but he must have the judgment to separate the good from the bad. He must also have energy sufficient to carry through whatever he starts. As I write these lines I am seventy-five years of age. To the young man of to-day there are offered more, better, and bigger opportunities than during my younger days. If he has no capital he should make his services so valuable to men who have capital that they cannot well do without him. Every successful man must retire from business at some future time. Usually, the son of a rich man is not to occupy his father's place in business. It is the poor boy upon whom the future business world depends. This makes untold opportunities for poor young men who are honest, willing to work, and determined to succeed.

In the fall of 1871 I made a trip to Nebraska where I purchased from the Union Pacific Railroad, one hundred and sixty acres of land in Polk County on the Big Blue River. In the spring of 1872 I drove six yoke of oxen overland to Nebraska. When I arrived, I took a homestead on land adjoining that which I had purchased the previous year. During the summer I broke one hundred acres of prairie. My intention was to move my family west the following spring. During the summer of 1872, while I was in Nebraska,


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