Henry Standing's Autobiography

Homesteading in North Dakota: Young Henry Standing with his wife Eunice and children Jesse, Edith and Bertha, ~1887

It was a beautiful First Day morning when we came into New York Harbor. It was an interesting sight to see the ferryboats plying between Station Island & New York or Brooklyn. We were delayed an hour or so at the Quarantine Station before proceeding to Castle Garden where most passengers landed at that time.

The cabin passengers landed first. Uncle Samuel Fox was there to meet us. (This was written by Henry Standing, oldest of the boys. He was then thirteen and the Uncle Samuel was his mother’s brother.) Father anticipated a rather difficult time at the Custom House for we had three large packing cases all neatly packed and lids fastened with screws and on the inside of each lid was an inventory of each item inside. They did not disturb the packing in the least, but fastened the lids on again and did not charge a cent of duty. Most others did not get off near so easily.

Next morning I went with Father to look after our freight. It was a cold morning said to be the coldest that winter. It was 4 degrees below zero, the coldest I had yet experienced. And I saw men chewing tobacco which was new to me. As yet we did not know where we were going. Had three places in mind: Virginia, New Jersey and Iowa, all under consideration. Elihu Buritt had given Father letters of introduction to Friends and others in Burlington, New Jersey.

So we went there first. The Station Agent introduced Father to two sisters who offered them a place to stay while they looked around. And we remained there two weeks. A nice place to stay. He called on Joseph Sholl who had gone to school at Croyden the year before Father was there. We got to know several friends at Burlington--one, William Allenson, who I think was one of the editors of the “Friends Review”. One elderly woman, Eliza Hinchman, advised them to go to Iowa rather than Virginia . Father had three brothers in Iowa. They enjoyed the country and friends in those parts but they were afraid the prices were above their means. And after weighing the matter they decided to go to Iowa.

We accordingly left Burlington by boat for Philadelphia where we took the train for Muscatine--which place was where Father’s brother Alfred lived at that time. I think it was 1003 miles. Western Pennsylvania--it was too dark to see much in Ohio and most of Indiana. But western Indiana and Illinois we thought a dismal looking country. Timber and saw mills, dead corn stalks were standing in the fields and no green grass in the meadows. Quite a contrast to the fields even in winter.

In due time we arrived at Muscatine, and there was Uncle Alfred to meet us with a team of horses and a farm wagon (a new kind of vehicle for us) to convey us to the Bloomington neighborhood. First to John Fry’s (son of Daniel Fry) and then to Daniel Johnson’s where we were to remain temporarily. It was a rather tedious 4 miles over muddy roads nearly due north of Muscatine. Perhaps the deepest and blackest mud we had ever seen.

They had been having a wet, mild winter but almost immediately there came a change. A snow storm with a foot or more snow with a strong NW wind which blew the snow into huge drifts. This must have been early in Third month. It was then we had our first sleigh ride on a bob sled and great fun coasting down hill in Charles Wood's pasture with Levi Johnson and Addy Wood.

Perhaps my parents’ first impression of the country was the apparent poverty of the people. I think it was more apparent then real with many of the farmers. They had not the home comforts we had been accustomed to, their goods were inferior and much more expensive. On the other hand, wages were higher. Farm produce was high at that time, in consequence of the recent war, but they soon after fell.

Father, not being accustomed to farming nor methods, and through the advice of several friends in whom they had confidence, decided to saught an opportunity to hire himself out to a good farmer. Such a one he found in the person of Watson Peasley. He was honest, capable, patient and unselfish. For wages he was to receive what Watson Peasley thought he was worth and so it was left until they made a settlement at the end of about 3 months, when Watson said Father was worth $40.00 per month. The farm was one mile north of the Bloomington Meeting House, 4 miles north of Muscatine, on the Wilton Road. A good neighborhood.

We three older boys attended school the summer we lived there. Caroline, daughter of Isaih and Nancy Stanley, was the teacher. Her daughter, adopted by Abner Bransen, is now the wife of Theodore Hoover--her name was Millie. As land was high in and around Muscatine, after Father had settled with Watson Peasley, he went on a tour of inspection. First to Richland and Pleasant Plain and on to Oskaloosa. Before starting out, Daniel Johnson told him about a piece of unimproved land near Earlham in Dallas County that had attracted attention.

So he came to Earlham and saw the tract of land alluded to. David Stanton, a friend who lived in Earlham, was agent for the owner of the land, and Father went to see him. The outcome was he bought 80 acres at $5.00 per acre. Paid cash down and agreed with Lindley Bufkin, Jessy Kenworthy’s son-in-law, to build a frame house 20 x 24 and to have it ready for occupancy by a certain date. There were to be two rooms downstairs and one big room up. All rooms to be plastered. I think he paid Lindley Bufkin $400.00 for the house.

As soon as Father had completed his business with David Stanton in the land deal and secured the contract with Lindley Bufkin, he returned to Muscatine and made preparations to move to Earlham. He bought 2 horses and a wagon of Daniel Johnson and a 3rd horse from John Fry. He engaged the services of Jesse Coller who was wanting to go to Cass County, I think, to take a load on his wagon on his way. We felt loathe to leave the Muscatine neighborhood where we had met with so much kindness. When we left, the neighbors did all they could to help load and contrive. The plan was to lead the cows behind the wagon, but they would not lead. (They likely would have, in time.)

So instead of having 3 horses on our wagon, it was decided for Ernest and me to take turns riding one horse (Cherry) and drive the cows. We had never ridden a horse before and we had no saddle and we got so sore and stiff there was no pleasure in life. Whenever we came to an unfenced tract of brush, the cows ran to that to brush off the flies and want to stay there. At such times Jesse Coller would get very angry because of the delay and reproached us unmercifully for our want of skill and tell us what his boys could do. One time the cows made a bolt for some brush and got in with more cattle. Jesse jumped on Cherry and lashed her with his whip to her great astonishment and dashed off after the cows showing us how to drive cattle. He got the cows out in short order!

The summer of 1870 had been very dry until we got on the road. We encountered heavy rains and muddy roads much of the time. Having poor wagon covers, a lot of damage was done to some of our things. One time we were delayed by both cows being sick by being fed damaged shorts. The man where we stayed doctored them and they were well enough to travel by noon. Another time Mother became ill, so that we had to lay by. At the house where we had put up the folks did what they could and gave Mother tea made from calmus or sweet flag in which they had great faith. Mother at once got better. I suppose we were nearly two weeks on the road but finally got there only to find the house not near done. This was a great disappointment. Here we were with no place to go and in a strange land. There seemed to be nothing to do but to live in with the Bufkins in their small house.

Ernest and I slept at a neighbors. I think that the Bufkins did the best they could for us. We remained with them for two weeks or more waiting for the house to be plastered. We soon realized we were in a much newer country than Muscatine County. There was considerable wild prairie and unfenced afforded free range for cattle which was what most farmers depended on for their cattle and hay. Their houses, too, were small unpainted upright board affairs, known as ba_ cons. Many young orchards were planted, but not many in bearing. In Bear Creek neighborhood there were orchards in full bearing, as well as around Redfield, Adel, and along the Raccoon River bottom. Redfield and Adel had no railroad until 1880.

A narrow road was built as far as Adel from Des Moines the year before. Earlham was a new town, not 2 years old. Unfenced prairie extended unfenced almost into town. I think it was 1869 the Rock Island Railroad came west of Des Moines. They had a newspaper at Dexter several years before the Earlham Echo made its appearance. Edwin Conger started a bank there and later was treasurer of Dallas County, and later state treasurer, I think. After that he was U.S. Minister to China. He was there at the time of the Boxer Rebellion and, with other foreigners including Herbert Hoover, was besieged in the Legation compound. Earlham finally gained on Dexter in population.

The Earlham Academy was built. Mark Hill started a bank. The stone and cement quarries near Earlham were also a stimulus. When we first lived in the Earlham neighborhood one of the most conspicuous features of the town were the long line of corn cribs. During the 70’s great quantities of corn was shipped out of Earlham.