News & Columns > Dave Henderson > A Pioneer Story (Part Four)

A Pioneer Story (Part Four)

By Dave Henderson
Thursday, September 13, 2007

Saint Louis

While there I went on several trips, with Johnny Grant to Saint Louis with his team of oxen and wagon of coal and enjoyed the occupation hugely. He would yoke up his oxen in the morning, go to the pit, put on some forty—five or fifty bushels of coal, drive into St. Louis some six miles, go to the coal stand where people in want of coal also came. His coal being weighed at one of the city scales, the tag determined the weight. The only next thing was how much per bushel he could get. Mr recollection was some nine to ten cents, with which when the coal was delivered he was ready to go home. Expenses for weighing and our dinners at Hide camps totaled thirty or thirty- five cents. He usually bought two or three bushels of corn at ten cents per bushel. We would get home usually in the dark and cold. The poor oxen had no shelter and were very poor, and they hung around the door for the next morning meal. Altogether it was a sorry way of getting a living looked at from our present standpoint, but many others were in a bad if not a worse condition. And at ths best the world is a fight with us all.

The Cholera of 1849 - 1850

Sister Margaret was left a widow the summer previous to our arrival. Her husband, David, had earned enough to buy this ox team and wagon, and by his energy brought on a sun stroke which carried him off. And she had to care of her own family of eight, Sister Agnes and John Grant, the son of my sister Isabella. Their little story is a sad one. The year previous to our arrival the cholera was very fatal. Robert Grant, his wife (my sister), and all their family except John died. Sister Agness was so near dead that they were preparing to bury her and Margret nursed her back to health. So few recovered that had an attack.

After a while Father want to Saint Louis and rented a shop where he and John Thompson sold furniture. Thompson being a carpenter made some bedsteds, tables, etc. in a shed behind the house. It was home for the winter. Jemima went to sewing school and I went as an apprentice to David Nicholson, corner of Fourth and Market Streets. As an errand boy I saw much of the town, from Fort Jefferson and French— town down river to the mounds up—Old Saint Louis; the lead works; Chotaus pond now filled up and built over; the Planters House; the music hall where I heard Jenny Lind sing; the Markets with their wealth of provisions huge buffalo and cat fish, honey in comb still in the tree trunk where the bees made it; long lanky Illinoiasians dressed comfortably if not stylishly in home made handspun and woven linsey woolsey with there wagons loaded with frozen hogs, corn or other market produce they had brought from home to sell in the city where they would make their necessary purchases for home use. They brought in also apple cider, Applejack, pumpkin, kegs of lard, hams, shoulders and side smoked meat. Long rows of them had their stands on Market Street. Meat, of all kinds were very cheap. A quarter of mutton sold for fifteen to twenty cents, flour three dollars per barrel or less, whiskey retailed for twenty-five cent Per gallon, sugar five to five and a half cents per pound for course New Orleans verity.

There we saw the Negro in all his glory. Many southern families spent there winter in Saint Louis and brought their body servants with them, fine plump young negroes and negresses, and on their Saturday afternoon outing they dressed in their stunning best the wenches in yellow starched stuff of some sort with much ornamentation and jewelery the men in blue cloth coats and pants and yellow vests, gold watches, finger rings. beaver hats of the latest style. Few white men or women could dress better. The blacks were quite numerous, about one fifth of the whole population, I think was the estimate.

While in Saint Louis Father had two wagons built to cross the plains to Salt Lake. They were shipped up the river to Council Buffs where we bought the working cattle and cows for the journey. The steamboat was large and the river rather shallow, so much time was spent getting over sandbars. We had two barges in tow part of the time to unload part of the freight on, and so lighten the steamboat while the barges were towed behind.

Starting the trip West

The landing at Council Bluffs was a sloping sandy beach and the transfer to the shore was had with little difficulty considering the entire absence of wharf or a convenient tree to tie to. The purchase of cattle was soon affected, but owing to our lack of experience, some halfe broke to work oxen and old cows were palmed on us at good prices. The Mormons (and they were nearly all Mormons at Council Bluffs) did not hesitate to cheat their green horn brethren when opportunity offered. When bought we had to keep them up as if they once got loose they were likely to be lost for good, and feeding them on corn was much work and expense. I had to look up any strays that got away and heavy rains kept the country wet and every little creek became a brawling torrent.

In one of these tramps I came across the Easton Outfit, as it was called. They had got to the Muskito Slough and were waiting for it to go down so they could get to Council Bluffs. In getting across to them I swam and liked the exercise except for the many water snakes around. I had much of that to do so I would take off my clothes, tie them into a small bundle, put them on top of my head and have them dry when over. The Easton outfit consisted of Sandy, James, George, John, Mathew, and Grandmother Eaton Billy Hartshorn and family and others. Sandy John and James had families and two wagons each.

Kernsville, the town of Council Bluff district, Iowa was a small affair two or three stores, one blacksmith shop, one news paper office run by Orson Hyde, one of the twelve apostle, of the Mormon church. He was a fat squat little man, looked more like a brewer than an apostle to me, and the whole kit and boiling looked more sinner than saint.

After many delays we made a start going up river through much mud and mire, and made camp near the Missouri river some seven mile from Kanesville. Next day we crossed the river and were in Indian Territory.

To Be Continued

This article was first published on Wednesday, September 12, 2007 at 12:00 am. This article has been viewed 1112 times.

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