Kansas Historical Quarterly
Letters of John and Sarah Everett,
1854-1864
Miami County Pioneers
February 1939 (Vol. 8, No. 1), pages 3 to 34
Transcribed by Sean Furniss; digitized with permission of
the Kansas Historical Society.
NOTE: The numbers in brackets are links to footnotes for this text.
I. INTRODUCTION
John
Roberts Everett [ 2] and
his wife, Sarah Maria Colegrove Everett, [3] with their two small sons, [4] migrated to Kansas territory from Steuben
township, Oneida county, New York, in the spring of 1855 and
settled in the vicinity of Osawatomie, present Miami county.
The letters here reproduced were written during the period
1855-1864, with the exception of two written by John Everett
in October, 1854, while on a preliminary visit to the
territory to select a location. They offer an unusual
picture of a pioneer family struggling against the hazards
of the frontier, the vagaries of nature, and political
turmoil.
John
Everett's interest in reform followed closely that of his
father, Robert Everett, a Welsh Congregational minister and
leader among his people in this country. [5] The latter had revised and published in 1854
a Welsh translation of Uncle Tom's Cabin, and John
Everett traveled among the Welsh settlements in New York,
Ohio and Pennsylvania selling this and other books before
his removal to Kansas. Sarah Everett was likewise interested
in the Antislavery cause, and she and her husband abandoned
a plan to migrate to Minnesota in order to lend their aid in
making Kansas a free state. Their sincerity of purpose is
manifest in their letters.
The
letters are addressed mainly to Robert Everett, Sr., and his
wife. A few are addressed to Robert, their son, and their
daughters, Mary, Cynthia, Anna, Jane (Jennie) and Sarah.
There is also an occasional letter from members of the
family in New York to John and Sarah Everett in Kansas. No
changes have been made beyond the deletion of certain
personal passages.
Kansas, [6] Mouth of Kansas river,
Missouri, Oct. 21, 1854.
Dear Bro. Robert,
II. THE LETTERS
I have got thus far on my way.
I started from Scott Thursday week. Arrived in Chicago Saturday. . .
. Started from Chicago Monday morning, and from St. Louis Tuesday afternoon.
We were 4 days making the trip from there here in the fastest boat on
the River. Distance 450 miles. The River is very low now. It is a broad
shallow stream. The water is always very muddy. It was the most unpleasant
4 days I ever journeyed. I do not remember hearing a man speak on the
boat whose conversation I watched at all who did not swear. The cabin
presented a continual scene of card playing from beginning to end. The
fare from St. Louis here is $12.00. I am stopping now in the hotel of
the Mass. Emigrant Aid Society. [7]
The charge here is $1.25 a day. I was fortunate enough to meet Mr. [Orville
C] Brown here. He has been out looking up a location for the company
he is with. They have found and fixed upon a location at the junction
of the Osage and Potawotamie Rivers, about 60 miles south of here. He
describes it as the finest land in the territory. We are going to start
out there early Monday morning. If I am not suited there I shall look
farther. From what I hear I judge that a good deal of the choice land
has been covered with claims. There are about 57 in the company Mr.
Brown is with. I do not know that I shall have time to write again before
I start Monday. Please let our folks know you have heard from me. I
am as well in health as is common with me.
P. S. I do not know, as I shall be here long enough to get a letter
from you. If you do write my P. O. address will be Kansas, Mo. The county
find on the map.
[John R. Everett to his wife, Scott, Cortland county, N. Y.]
Kansas Territory, Oct. 28, 1854.
My Darling
I
do not know where to date my letter to you. I
am about 40 miles South of Westport at the house of an
Indian called Baptist Peoria. [8] Baptist they call him. Peoria
is the name of his tribe. I suppose you would like me to
give you my impression of the territory. From here to
Westport is a most beautiful rolling prairie. The face of
the country is emphatically beautiful. Hardly a level spot
but all the way fine sweeps of hill and dale. No high or
sharp hills but the landscape is all made up of smooth
waving lines. There are here and there patches of wood and
scattering trees. It looks like a country that had been
finely cultivated, and suddenly every habitation and man
swept from it. The prairie grass was dead. When green it
would add very much to the scenery. But there are very
serious drawbacks to the country. Water is very scarce.
There is not a tenth, perhaps not a fiftieth enough wood on
it. We went 20 miles without being able to get drink. There
are very few springs. Nearly all the water courses now are
perfectly dry. It looks like a country of floods and
drouths. The streams that I have seen that do not get dry
are wooded for from 1/4 to, 1/2 mile on each bank. This is
the case with the Osage and Pottowottamie, at the junction
of which I told you our party were going. That party
exploded. They did not seem to like the location. Only three
or four are left together. I think there is some prospect of
a place growing up there. I do not know how much. Mr. Brown
is very sanguine that it will be a great place. I confess I
am not suited with the farming land around it in every
respect. I am very much in doubt how you would like to live
there. The wood there is very good for this country, and
will be plenty for the first settlers. A gentleman who
represents a party from Rochester, who are coming out in the
spring intends to establish himself there and build a steam
saw mill. There is limestone there, clay for brick, timber
for the mill, running water for cattle. Coal is only 25 or
30 miles distant. And we are there contiguous to some Indian
lands, most beautiful and fertile, that are soon to come
into market. One on the grounds will be much better able to
take advantage of choice spots, than a stranger. The
climate, as far as I have seen and heard, is much more
uniform than with us. We have had most beautiful weather
these last few days,––like our finest September
weather. I am strongly inclined to risk it and take a place
there. It may grow up to be as beautiful a village as
there is in the West. The men who are left are sterling,
enterprising, far-seeing men. Mr. [John] Serpel,
(whom I mentioned above in connection with the steam saw
mill) is a man of large means, I understand. He will carry
through what he undertakes. He has men in the territory, of
different occupations, whom he expects to bring on
immediately. His mind was drawn to Kansas by the
Anti-slavery feeling, as mine was. He is a Quaker. Mr.
[William] Chestnut, our other man is a genial,
warm-hearted, sanguine Scotchman; left an orphan very young.
So far he has depended on himself, and has always been
successful. We shall like him first rate, if we come out
here. Mr. Brown is enterprising, tenacious of his purposes,
a man to push forward what he undertakes. I forgot to tell
you that our river water is excellent for drinking. Do you
think I am acting wisely in securing a place here? Perhaps.
If you do not want to come it shall all be thrown to the
winds. You know I am not apt to be over sanguine, and
perhaps every thing will turn out better than my
anticipations. I am quite sure if we have a saw mill, grist
mill, lime kiln, perhaps a plaster mill &c. &c., it
will help wonderfully to fill up the country around, and to
make Osawottamie [9] (!) a central place.
.
. . I have not of course heard a word from you, but shall
expect to when the gentleman returns, who takes this to the
mail. Till then I shall hope that you are well and happy. I
hope to make my business so that I can leave here in two or
three weeks.–– I have been very much surprised
at seeing so few Indians. I have seen very few indeed. Only
one in four days, except this family under whose roof I am.
This is a very nice family here. Baptist is very
intelligent. He is one quarter French. He speaks 5 Indian
languages, besides English and French. He is the interpreter
between the Indians and the government. Every statement he
makes is implicitly relied on, on both sides. They get up
meals here nicer and better than at any hotel I ever stopped
at. At least you think so after being in the woods three or
four days.–– I am perfectly satisfied after
seeing the Eden-like and wide lands that these few
Indians roamed over, that no injustice has been done
them in the treaties by which they give it up. Each
man, woman and child of the Shawnees, for instance, gets 200
acres of land of their own selection, besides $100,000 a
year for the tribe for 8 years; the tribe numbering about
800 to 1000. [10] And
other tribes in pretty much the same proportion.
[Cynthia Everett to Mary Everett,
Saratoga Springs, N. Y.]
Remsen, Nov. 17, 1854.
Friday evening.
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
Dear
Mary, . . . Last night just as we were going to bed John and
Sarah Maria and their two dear little ones came. They are
well, and John has brought as a Kansas mark
mustaches. I think they are quite becoming. He left
directions and money to have a log house built against
Spring. He intends staying in Utica this winter, and setting
on the Hymn-book. I have not had any time yet to ask him any
questions about his journey and so cannot tell you––
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
Yours
&c.
Cynthia––
[Columbus Pa.] March 9, 1855
Dear Father & Mother
We
arrived here about 10 o'clock Saturday night. We had no
trouble on the Railroad with the children. Did not stop in
Fredonia. We came right through to Westfield without any
stop of over ten minutes. From Westfield to Columbus (30
miles) in a stage. The baby was very worrisome, but we
managed to get through with him. He has fretted a great deal
after his grandmother. He is getting reconciled now. He has
coughed a good deal, and in fact we have all got colds. Baby
I think is getting better. We found our friends here all
well.
Frank
has enjoyed his journey very much. I am feeling a good deal
better than when we started. Sarah does not seem to be quite
as well. She has had it quite hard with the baby.
I
do not think we shall stay here over a week longer. I feel
anxious to get to the end of our journey, to get a settled
and steady place for the children as soon as possible.
With much love to all at home
Your affectionate son and daughter
John and Sarah
Osawottamie, April 28, 1855.
Dear Brother Robert
I
should have written to you before now, and intended to have
done so. But I have not seen much but trouble and discomfort
since I started from home. The children were both sick on
the journey, and both had to be held or carried, nearly the
whole time when they were not asleep. You have doubtless
heard how our little one gradually grew worse, and finally
dropt away. It was a sad beginning to our Kansas life.
Frank's health has been improving since we landed. He is now
quite rugged and healthy. Sarah has been very healthy since
we have been here. I have not felt strength to work much
since we have been here. I do not think I have done more in
a week that a good farmer would do in a day. I am getting
better now, and feel more like working. The climate has been
very different from my experiences of April weather. I have
not had my coat on, for warmth, this fortnight. We have long
continued and hard, almost violent South winds. We have not
had rain enough to cause the eaves to drip this four weeks
we have been here. There has been no dew. Still vegetation
has started, the grass is green, and the trees and shrubs
are beginning to leave out. Old settlers in Missouri say
this is the driest and most backward spring they ever
knew.
I
was very much disappointed about my claim when we got here.
As we had no intimation in Kansas City that every thing was
not right, and as we were particularly anxious to get
through with the children, we came right on here with all
our baggage, to find that our claim had been taken by
another, and we were houseless. We met Mr. Serpell (who was
to have built our house) and Mr. Brown, and both assured us
that our claim could not have been kept; that Mr. Serpell
would have been in danger of his life if he had tried to
build it, &c. Our surprise was very great to find on
enquiry among the neighbors, that Mr. Serpell himself had
actually built the house for this other man, and that there
had been no trouble about the house on that claim. There had
been trouble about the house on the next claim. One set of
logs had been burnt by a man who tried to hold half a square
mile of land; but that quarrel was over, and there was no
difficulty about the house on my claim. I found moreover
that these men, Mr. Serpell and Mr. Brown, were trying to
hold on to 4 or 5 claims each. This was plainly illegal,
wrong, and not to be tolerated. I looked around for a place
as well as I was able with my poor health, but could find
none that suited. We then determined that we would take one
of those illegally held for speculation. Mr. Brown had told
us we might go into one of his houses. If he had done his
duty as he promised we would have had a house of our own.
There is no doubt our claim was taken from us by Mr. Brown's
advice. (We have no direct proof, but every thing looks like
it.) Mr. B. had no shadow of legal authority to hold the
claim we were on. We concluded we would stay on it. This of
course does not suit Mr. B. very well, but I think he will
learn that the preemption law is so carefully guarded, for
the interests of the actual settlers, as to leave no room
for speculators. I do not think it my duty to turnout of my
path for those who are illegally speculating in the public
lands. This claim was not the one he intended for his
family, but one intended for speculative purposes. Our
neighbors, generally, particularly the more intelligent and
manly, say that we are right, and should stick to it.
Mr.
Knox takes this East. . . . Mr. Knox does not find things
here up to his anticipations, and returns. Disappointed
faces are rather common among emigrants. Kansas is a good
country, but too much praised. It has its disadvantages.
(Sarah yet insists that it is paradise here, and would like
to see some of the disadvantages.) It is surprising how
large a proportion of our emigrants are city men and
mechanics. A regular bred farmer is a rarity. This is a
great country for cities. Every neighborhood finds some
ambitious man who must straightway build a city, with broad
streets, and wide avenues, parks and public squares. The few
neighbors straightway grow complacent at the idea of their
being in the neighborhood of a city, perhaps get city lots
promised them gratis, and fall to dreaming of the rise in
city property, which at some future time will make them
wealthy.– I did not get the long letter you wrote me
nor the coat you sent to Westfield. We lost a bandbox with a
good many things around it in a bag. Perhaps it has been
sent you by express. I so directed if they found it. . . .
Write me all the news how you are getting along, all about
home &c.
My
direction is Osawatomie, Kansas P. O. There is a weekly
stage to Kansas but no P. O. here. Jane's letter was the
first we had heard from home in five weeks.
Home, June 1, 1855.
Friday eve.
My dear Sisters;
We
have just received a letter from John & Sarah with a
lock of Frank's hair for his part of the letter. They write
very cheerfully, are feeling much better than when
they wrote before. Their letter was dated May 21. John says
they are having a little trouble about their claim, but does
not seem to feel discouraged about it, he says if they do
lose it, "the world is wide, and they can choose elsewhere."
They had had some rain and consequently the prospect for
vegetation was brightening. Sarah writes that we "need not
worry or feel anxious because their house happens to be
light enough without windows, for they are quite
comfortable." Their bedstead is made of round poles with
the bark on. (Answers instead of carved work, Sarah
says.) Franky sleeps in Robert's large trunk filled with bed
clothes, and this with the cover on and a cradle quilt
spread over makes a fine Ottoman, so in Sarah's
opinion they have not only what is necessary to comfort, but
also some luxuries.
Sarah's
clock adorns one side of the room, my picture another, and
shelves for books, made of split oak shingles on pegs driven
in to the logs, a third. The floor is also mostly covered
with a carpet. They have a cow, which gives all the milk
they want to use. John's health is much better than when
they left home. Sarah's also, and Franky grows healthier and
more rugged every day. He eats about as much as his
father. There with a bundle of love, you have a pretty
good synopsis of the two letters.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dear Father
We
received your and Mary's letter last Thursday evening. We
received a letter from the girls at Saratoga the same
evening. We are always very glad to hear from home. We have
had a good deal of trouble since we have been in the
Territory. We have lost our second claim. I do not feel like
going into particulars. Suffice it to say we were the
victims of gross falsehood, misrepresentation and fraud. We
have just got another claim. This we had to pay $62.50 for.
It has a log cabin on it not quite finished. We are going to
move to it to day. I was out at Lawrence week before last.
Stayed with Edward Jones over Sunday. His brother-in-law,
Robert Hughes, takes the Cenhadwr. [11] Had not had the May number. This was the
first one that had missed. We got the May Cen. on the 11th
and the June No. on the 14th. The mail here is weekly.
We
have had fine rains here lately. I hear that crops are
looking finely in Missouri. Here everything had to be
planted late because the prairie could not be plowed till
the grass had got a good start.–– The violent
demonstrations of Missourians you read of have not disturbed
us much here: The Missourians around here are nearly all
free state I believe, at least strongly opposed to people
coming here from the State to vote.
Our
health is quite good. I have felt very little comfort yet in
the Territory. Hope our good days are yet to come. We are
intending to put in a couple of acres of corn yet, and
perhaps a few other seeds.
We
must have written two or three letters you have not got. . .
. Those papers that Lewis mailed for me I hope to get in the
next mail. Newspapers are very acceptable here, I assure
you. I do not get any paper. Letters continue to come in,
now mostly overland, from Indiana, Illinois &c. As far
as my information goes, the slave state settlers are
very few. Must close with love to all at home. Perhaps I
shall feel sometime like writing a long letter.
Your affectionate
son
John.
Osawatomie, July 20, 1855
Dear Sister Mary
It
is now about four weeks since we heard from home. I am
afraid that my remissness in writing is one reason of our
not hearing for so long from you. I think you can not have
gotten all our letters. We have had a good deal of trouble
since we have been here. We are now settled in a very pretty
spot about 1 1/4 miles from the Pottawatomie Creek, South;
about 21 miles from the Missouri frontier. I think I
mentioned in my last that I paid $62.50 for the claim I am
now on. Our cabin is a poor one, but I have seen some worse,
and we can improve it I hope. We have nearly 2 acres planted
in corn, and about 1/4 acre of beans. A few tomatoes, peas,
3 kinds of squash, & 3 kinds of pumpkins completes the
list of our growing crops. We have one cow and a calf. Our
pasture is a very large one. Our meadow is equally large. It
is very unlikely that I shall mow it all this season. In
fact I have never seen the fences that bound it. I think the
Pacific Ocean laves its Western limit. But enough of our
pasture and meadow. This would be a great country for some
of our Steuben dairymen to make cheese in. I have been told
that 20 to 25 cts per pound was not an uncommon price for
cheese. The number of cows a man could keep here would only
be limited by the number he could pay for and take care
of.
You
probably have seen reports in the newspapers of the violence
of the Missourians in some parts of the Territory. I am
happy to say that they do not disturb us much here. There is
no slave state party here. And I think through the
Territory, the majority for freedom is strong and decided if
we are allowed to do our own voting. Fort Leavenworth
(around which most of the violence has been perpetrated) is
80 miles from here.
Franky
is learning to talk slowly. His mother says he knows the
whole language by heart, but that is a slight
exaggeration. He is growing more rugged all the time. My
health is improving a little. Sarah is in usual health.
Tell
Lewis I thank him very much for the newspapers he sent me. I
do not take any paper, and have only had two papers besides
those and the Cenhadwr since I have been in Kansas. I
believe you used to get 2 copies of the Phrenological and
Water Cure Journals. [12] I wish some of you would remail one copy of
each to me. I miss the Tribune here especially. If you see
Robert tell him to mail me an occasional [Utica]
Herald after he has read it. I have not seen one since I
have been in Kansas. We have a Postoffice established at
Osawatomie now, so letters and papers may be directed now,
"Osawatomie, Kansas Territory," and need not go to Kansas
City. We live about 2 1/2 miles from the P. O. about half
the distance through the prairie grass without a path. The
mail is weekly: So we write this to take down when we go to
see if anything has come for us. Sarah goes with this, Frank
is asleep and I go to the woods to get [MS.
illegible] berries, and come back & forth to watch
Franky.
P. S. Write often. Send me
an occasional [St. Louis Christian] Advocate. I
want to see the St Louis prices &c. &c.
Osawatomie, July 27, 1855.
Dear Bro Robert
I
write this to request a favor of you, and therefore I
commence with the request. It is that you would send one
dollar to the N. Y. Tribune, for their Semiweekly paper for
1/3 of a year. I do not feel quite safe in sending money in
a letter, as I have reason to think that some of my letters
have been lost. Besides I feel for various reasons rather
poor at present. I think I can pay you some time. I would
also like it first rate if you would send me an occasional
Herald after you have gleaned its contents. I do not take
any paper, so any thing from the East will be acceptable.
And if you ever have a number of Harper's that you do not
care any thing about, I should like very much to see it. A
paper that we used to see reminds us here on the frontiers
that we still live in the world.
I
have not much time to write you any news. I have been very
busy with my little strength getting out fencing for my corn
patch. We have been on the claim we are now on about one
month. Have got 3 acres plowed; over 2/3 of it planted in
corn, beans, &c.; but it is yet in the open prairie. I
have borrowed a yoke of cattle and am today getting out my
rails. My corn has been out of the ground about 3 weeks, and
the longest leaves are already over three feet long. We have
had very fine growing weather since the middle of May.
Before that time the heavens seemed brass, no dew, no rain.
Hence the stories of those who went back with unfavorable
reports of the country. Things looked very discouraging in
April. It was an extraordinary dry time. There had
been no rain of consequence for ten months. But everybody
here now is satisfied with the country as far as I hear
opinions given.
Of
political news your information about us I presume is as
correct as mine, particularly if you read the N. Y. Tribune
(judging from the few numbers of that paper I have seen.) We
in this section are quietly attending each one to his own
business here, without more trouble, on the whole, than
might be expected. We personally have had a good deal
more than our average share of that trouble, but that
is over now, and the next time it will be probably some one
else's turn. We feel now tolerably comfortable (I
more than Sarah) and happy (both I think) although we are 1
1/4 miles from a neighbor and live in a cabin with a carpet
for a door, mowed grass for floor, a leaky roof, and no
windows at all. But then there are plenty of cracks where
the light comes in. The thermometer while I write stands at
96 in the shade; 90° is quite a common temperature at
midday; sometimes it goes up to 98°; and about 72 to 80
at sunrise. But there is a breeze continually blowing,
generally from the South, which very sensibly modifies the
apparent temperature.– When this goes down to the
mail, we send for our mail, (the mail came in last night). .
. . If I have time, I will write more, if not, good bye. . .
.
That
sterescope I have heard from Mr. Coolledge went to
Faribault, Minnesota: he wrote me from there, and I have
enclosed 16 postage stamps so that he may forward it. You
must know that I shall be very glad to see it.––
Have you got that bundle back you sent to Westport? I wish:
I had brought that Universal Atlas with me. I have thought
some of sending for a small box of things from Utica, as
goods are so high here. If you see any chance to send with
anybody as freight I should like to have that Atlas
sent.
Monday Morning Aug. 20, '55.
Dear Father
It
is now three weeks Saturday since we got your and Sissy's
letter. I have been intending all along to write you a long
letter but have not found opportunity and inclination
concurring. I will write a few lines this morning, rather
than let another week pass by without a word. Sarah has been
sick just three weeks now with the intermittent fever and
ague. [13] She has
been confined to, her bed all the time. The chill and fever
only come on every other day, but they leave her very weak,
so that she feels no strength intervening days. We think she
is now on the gain. She has taken no medicine. We doctor
entirely with water. I think the fever might be broken in less time with quinine and other medicines, but we
are not willing to use them, as I think the disease can be
cured much more effectually with water. There has
been a great deal of this sickness around here for the last
month. Previous to that time it was quite healthy. I do not
hear how it is in other parts of the territory. This is a
very distressing disease. There have been some deaths. One
our next neighbor, Angus Rose, who had become dear to us by
mutual interchanges of kindness, died after a short illness.
He did our ploughing for us, and had been our friend in all
our troubles with Brown. He came to Kansas two days after he
was married––to find his grave.–– My
health is quite good. Franky is hearty as ever. Last week,
and the week before, we had a great deal of rain. Now the
weather is quite cool. We got the Cenhadwr for August and
the Independent for Aug. 2 Saturday. I hope for a letter
from home in the next mail. A new neighbor, three quarters
of a mile from here, goes to Kansas City this morning and I
will send this with him, otherwise I could not send for
another week, for it is too far to take this through the wet
grass to the Postoffice. I hope my sisters, will not be
tired of writing their brother because their letters are not
answered, for it does me a great deal of good to get their
letters. Write all of you as often as you can.
Your affectionate
son
John.
Will write you
again by next mail, particularly if we are worse.
Dear Sister Cynthia
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
Our corn is
much higher than we can reach––it is earing out,
our pumpkins and squashes are for the most part fruiting
well and we have one large patch of beans that promise well.
Our tomatoes are getting on as fast as they can but will not
be ripe under a fortnight. Those with a few hills of
potatoes comprise all our crop this year. Our cabin is still
in a dilapidated condition––our sickness
preventing us from fixing it up. The rain and sunshine of
heaven can both alike visit us, but we murmur not at either––why
should we murmur at anything that comes from Heaven. The
worms are working in the logs at the side & over head so
that we have a continual dust dropping in every part of the
cabin. Sometimes it gets an inch thick on things that are
not moved for two or 3 days, &c. Write to us soon and
often
As ever your
Sister
Sarah
Dear Cynthia
This
is the 5th weekly dispatch from Osawatomie to Remsen––Dont
you think Ague & Fever a good thing to quicken up remiss
letter writers?
John
is most as well now as I am, but to get so I had to meet him
half way. He has ague and fever one day, I
chill fever the next!
Very
accommodating sort of people you see–– Our
neighbor comes once a week now instead of once a day––
He took the cow home with him so I have a nice little
airing once a day walking up to his house (3/4 of a
mile) to get the milk–– this you know must be
peculiarly agreeable to me as one day I'm obliged to
be confined to my bed nearly the whole of the rest of
the day and the next day confined to the house to
look after John during his confined stage. He is
evidently gaining some now.
I suppose that
too much exercise with too little treatment
has brought the fever in a mild form on to me again. But
courage now, our Quaker neighbors moved in last night, a
part of them. One of the men called on us to day––the
most thoroughly intelligent, sensible man we've conversed
with in the Territory. His Sister-in-law a widow woman who
is with him has, he told me, six daughters and some of them
would call soon to help us–– Heaven preserve the
Quakers, and send a small colony to every ague and fever
district.
Tomorrow
would have been our poor little baby's birthday––
How thankful I've been during this long season of sickness
that he was where he could know no such thing as neglect and
suffering–– Frank is large enough to be turned
off all day when we can't take care of him, but poor little
Henry must have suffered had not our ever kind and all-wise
Father consigned him to Angel guardianship.
It
is late bed time and I must retire. I have had a chill and
fever today John I suppose will shake tomorrow––
His sick spells grow lighter now each day–– We
expected a letter from you to day. The one written Aug 10 is
the last we have received. We have not got any Cen. for Sep.
yet or Water cure journal. Tribune and Independent come
regularly.
Our love to
all. . . . Your shaking Sister
Sunday near noon
John
has had his ague and fever and feels, better than he has
after any sick spell before. He had a shorter and easier
time also than on any previous day. I think he'll get along
in a short time–– I feel better today than
common too Sarah
Dear Brother Robert––
I
am sick & have to employ an amanuensis. This is my fifth
week of ague & fever. I must write short as Sarah has
got to take this to the mail to-day. We received that
beautiful Daguerreotype of Father and Mother for which I
thank you very much indeed. We have had the Tribune ever
since Aug. 21––
To
come to the substance of this epistle, this is another
begging letter of a more serious nature than the last.––
There is no grist mill in the place–– We will
have we hope plenty of corn but no way of getting it ground––
I have seen an advertisement of a. patent grinder in Fowlers
journal the cost of the size I want of which will be six
dollars–– I am very anxious to get it, as I
might grind graham flour and perhaps corn for good profit,
beside the advantage it would be to ourselves. I want it
sent by express or by some very quick conveyance. If you can
put in a few other articles with it without greatly
increasing the expense I would like to have you. I will
enumerate––my coats––Universal Atlas
a few roots from home which I will put on a separate piece
of paper for Lewis to put up––a plush cap for me
worth $2.00––two or three gooseberry roots from
Uncle Henry, the top can be mostly cut off to save room,
four common sized tin pans and two two qt. basins if they
can be put in without increasing the bulk too much, two
peach trees of Cunningham one serrate early York––one
George the Fourth, one year from the bud, get these if he
will sell them for about half price of salable trees, if
they are small enough to be packt. You can judge when he
takes them up whether they can be packed–– I am
not very anxious about these as I am doubtful about their
living.
I
do not know what your means are and whether I am not asking
too great a favor. I am exceedingly anxious to get the
grinding machine–– Any of the other things you
can leave out if not convenient for you to get them to
send.
Knox
told us he could get trees sent to St Louis by express for
three dollars a hundred weight.
Direct
to care of Walker & Chick, Kansas––if they
want a house to direct to in St Louis say Smythe and Gore––
If you can do this or any part of it you will oblige your
affectionate brother
P. S. Do send me 1 or 2 Faber's No 3 lead
pencils
We
are going to move to the village to a snug house. We have a
fair prospect of getting some boarders. I feel this fever
will leave me better. They are going to build a Steam Saw
Mill & some kind of Gristmill so if I can work I can get
work. I hope I can pay you by Spring if you need. I know
your affection prompts you to incommode yourself for me.
Please send a bill of what you get. We need a Thermometer.
Ours is damaged and we can get none here. I think you better
direct care S. & G. St. L., care W. & C. Kansas,
Mo., J. R. E. Osawatomie (in full as above), as I do not
know of an Ex. Off. in Kansas. The wind blows cold today.
43° is the lowest the thermometer has gone. We shall
need quite as warm ordinary clothing here as in Utica this
winter I am convinced. . . . Please send 6 yds canton
flannel (unbleached will do.) Do write us & Jenny too.
You do not know how much we long for letters I want to hear
all about both of you. Send me a Herald––no
matter if weeks old. Have seen no Utica paper since I saw
you.
With much love
to you and Jenny
Dear Bro. Robert
I
take my pen to write you a few lines, for this Ague
and Fever makes one feel very weak, particularly when one
has had it steady for 6 weeks. I expect I am about over it
now, but do not expect to gain strength till it has left me
entirely. I hope to enjoy better health after this turn of
sickness. . . . I wrote you one week ago to get me some
things. If you have not sent the box off, I should like to
make some additions.
A handful of
Uncle's very early peas, if he can spare them.
1/2 dozen
wooden combs.
1 long horn
comb.
1 fine
comb.
1 skein blue
mixed stocking yarn.
Ball of shoe
thread, (a little shoemaker's wax, & a few bristles if
convenient).
Scraps of
leather, calf & morocco for mending Sarah's shoes.
(There
is no shoemaker in the place.)
4 awls,
crooked and straight.
2 cheap tin
candlesticks. (We got some at O'Neils for 6 cents
apiece.)
1 or 2 hoes
without handles, if you can get them. They ask here 75c. for
such hoes as they sell in Utica, for 37 1/2.
A one-bladed
jack knife worth about [MS. illegible].
If
you can you may get a yard of cotton plush, with trimming
for a vest. I got some last fall at a clothing store and
tailor's shop about half way down Genesee St.––
A cheap sodering iron and a little sodder.
We
had a hard frost last night, the first of the season. The
thermometer fell to 22°.–– The steamboats
stop running up the Missouri river the last of November. You
can use your own judgment in leaving out any thing I have
sent for. I am intent on getting the Hand Mill, if it is any
thing such as I think it. I would not miss having it in St.
Louis in time to come up this fall.
Write me a
sketch of your trip to the White Mts. and to Newhampton. The
next pleasure journey you take come out and see me. Won't
Jenny write us? I have just been reading and crying over the
letter we got from her last spring. She must remember the
troubles that have been treading on our heels all summer and
weighing down our hearts and spirits, and accept that as an
excuse for our not answering her.
With the
warmest love for yourself and Jenny
P. S. Pray that our sickness may be blessed
to us spiritually.
[John R. Everett to Sarah A. Everett,
Remsen, N.Y.]
Dearest Friends
I
intended to write a few words in answer to each of your
affectionate & sympathising letters. Anna dear, we have
moved to the village in a much more comfortable house
than our miserable cabin. We moved last Friday. We feel very
feeble indeed after moving, as we were obliged to overdo.
Franky is better than when we wrote last. I not so well I
think on account of moving. Sarah is very feeble indeed. She
has had no chills for 2 days but she cannot sit up at all
and is failing in strength. Sarah wants the ingredients or
receipt for Peruvian bark. I wish the solid articles were
light enough to send in a letter, for I think they have poor
drugs here. . . . Sarah gave wrong directions as to starting
letters Tuesday. It is very extraordinary for letters to
come so quick. The time you used to start them is better.
Have you heard any thing about an "Improved Hand Mill" which
I asked Robert to send for for me about three weeks ago. I
am very anxious, indeed to hear from it and get. I mention
it because it may keep us from starving this winter. Corn is
50c, and meal $1.35. If Robert did not get my letter, please
write to him to send immediately $6.00 to Fowlers and Wells
and have it sent by express, care Smyth and Gore, St Louis,
care Walker and Chick, Kansas, John R Everett Osawatomie. .
. . I cannot write any more. Love, love, love to all. . .
.
P. S. That flour has come
from St Louis––most beautiful flour. Costs on
the whole just what we would have to pay here. Thanks again
to my brothers. John
Dear Cynthia
We
received your laughing letter of Oct 10, day before
yesterday & it set us to laughing too. Now we did get a letter last week but none the week before, and we
haven't got two any week since. The week we did not get one
we did not answer it of course. How could we? You have asked
a great many questions in your former letters some of which
I will answer. The Quakers did not do as much for us as we
anticipated, the girls were not naturally strong and then
most all the family took the "chill fever" after they came
in. So they had to take care of themselves. There was but
one man and he had so much to do he could not do much for us
still we could have a horse there whenever we wanted and the
women came in and helped me three or four times. Their names
I have not learned except the two married ladies and oldest
daughter. The mother's names are both Sarah and the
daughter's name Elizabeth. They are real Hoosiers. Sarah the
widow expected to make a heap of butter to sell from her two
cows this winter but her best cow is caving around so
about her calf that gave out in moving and was left behind,
that she's afraid she'll all dry up, and she has heaps of
trouble about her now. Richard the Quaker [14] is about like John––perhaps a
little more of a talker––just about such a
reader––watches the mails with about as much
anxiety &c. You wanted to know what kind of a stove and
kettles we have––just one of the cutest one's
you ever saw––stove shaped like yours No. 3 with
furniture almost as large as yours––
To
day is the first day in thirteen weeks that we have been
free from the Chill and Intermittent Fever––
Last week & week before last we all three had it every
day. I got so run down that although I have not had a chill
since a week ago yesterday I have not been able to do any
thing or sit up much of the time till to day.
John
has not had any in two days––but be is very
feeble. Frank missed his this morning–– It is
utterly impossible for you to understand anything about what
we have suffered here–– Sometimes both sick
together unable to wait on each other or little Frank. In a
house that the meanest hovel you know would be preferable
to. It's of no use to try to tell you anything about it, you
dont want to know either. We had got so completely worn out,
last Sat., that if I had written instead of John I should
have told you we were dying. I verily thought that life with
me had about drawn to a close. I was so weak, so worn and
exhausted that I could not see how I could ever build up
again––& there were John and Frank looking
like two shadows standing between this world and the next––
We were all three of us fearfully sick and nobody to take
care of us. We had been so days together before but never
had the dark river sounded so near as now. I could feel its
icy breezes stealing over my brow and hear its ripples as it
passed me by––
But
I am again gaining strength–– John and Franky
look a little better––and the dark river with
its damp icy breath and dread mysterious sounds seems
farther in the distance.
We
moved a week ago yesterday. John had to overdo about it and
that I think is the reason he is so feeble. One day he had
to ride two miles & a half in a chill and the day we
moved he had to work right along through his chill. He has
had some very sick spells since then but we hope his chills
are over with now.
The
man we hired the house of who is going to board with us when
we are able to take him has fixed wood for us since we moved
and done our milking or I don't know what would have become
of us. It is bed time and I am very tired so I will bid you
good night
Please
send me half an ounce of mace in a letter envelope made
tight Sarah
Don't
forget the Water Cure & Phren. Journals if you still get
two. The Cen. for 2 mo. is still back
Do
send me a Utica Herald, I want to see one, if its 3 months
old
Dear Father
I
can only write a few lines this morning. My health is still
miserable. I feel very little better than when I had chills
every day. Sarah is better than when we wrote last. She had
three chills last week, but they left her better and
stronger than before. I had a chill yesterday and the day
before; I hope they will operate the same on me. Franky is a
little better. He has no chills now. He has cut three eye
teeth and his gum is swollen for another. I suppose you have
learnt that we have moved into town. The .house in which we
live is far more comfortable than our poor cabin. But it is
not finished inside, for lack of lumber. Our frame houses
here are very different from your comfortable, plastered
tenements. There has been no sand found here nearer than
twenty or thirty miles. They ceil up their houses &
frame buildings with split oak shingles, three feet long.
They clapboard with the same. We soon found after coming
here that our small cook stove would not begin to keep us
warm in cold or windy weather. We have some quite cold
weather. The winds, especially the North wind, are more
piercing than with you. So we were obliged to send for a
stove that would heat. We sent to St. Louis, about 3 weeks
ago for a box stove, worth $9, and necessary pipe to Mr.
Thos. Davies. I know this will meet with your approval,
although I could not consult you about it. I cannot write
much more at present. Our prospects, now, are sufficiently
discouraging. I have hardly been able to work an hour at
productive labor since I have been in Kansas. But we hope
for better times. Please send word to Mary that I got her
letter dated Oct. 25. She must excuse me for not answering
her two letters before this. But I felt so miserable the
last week I did not feel I could write.
Uncle
and Cousin Henry have been very kind indeed in giving us the
mill. It warms our hearts to them. I must close
Your affectionate son
John
P. S. I thank you very much
for your last kind letter particularly the religious advice
in it. I hope I shall profit by it. . . .
We
have not had the Cen. since August, Is there a hole in Uncle
Sam's bag. Do you still get 2 Water Cure and Phren.
Journals?
Dear Jennie––
Your
letters were both duly received, but we have felt it a sort
of duty to write home every week, and we have been too
miserable to do much more than that
I
don't know whether we are in reality gaining much or
not. Sometimes we feel well and strong and think within
ourselves that the plague is stayed when suddenly the chills
begin to run over us and in a few hours we find ourselves
prostrated again. Sickness––sometimes light––sometimes
severe, has hovered around us now four months––sometimes
all three of us and again only one at a time have lain
powerless within her grasp.
During
this long tedious period our system of economy has been
unable to prevent our means from melting away.––
We raised no crop of any account except for fodder––
We are neither of us able yet to do a good days work, and
liable if we attempt to be put clear back again. We have
only two boarders as yet which of course do not pay all the
expenses of the family, and we have got to buy provisions
till we can raise, another year. We have also got to have
some kind of a shelter to abide under when we again return
to our claim–– Yet in this state of health and
with these demands upon us––we have no more than
five dollars on which to rely––!
I
have no particular news to write to you except that Brown
our persecutor and the moral pest of this community has had
his connection with the town suddenly broken off by the
agent of the "Emigrant Aid Society," whose agent Brown
was. [15] He had
become such a nuisance that Pomeroy (the agent) could not
endure him any longer. He has borrowed money now and gone to
New York or starts for there tomorrow morning to try to
"raise the wind somehow" as one of our old and tried
neighbors (Mr. Chestnut) expressed it to us this morning.
His family are still here. Not a person who knows him speaks
well of him, himself and family are all thoroughly detested––
I must close, write soon
Sarah
Dear Cynthia––
We
have received weekly dispatches from some of our home
friends, so far during this month. New Year's day we got
five letters to compensate us for going without a long
time.
There
were no regular mails during the month of Dec. which
accounts for your not having heard from us in so long a
time. I think too that one of our letters must have been
lost, or delayed an unconscionable length of time, for we
sent a letter from this place the 18th of Dec. which was
written a week before, stating that we had received "the
box" all right, and that the delay had been occasioned by
the carelessness of the commission merchant in Kansas City––
We received this week the note sent to the P. M. (Mr. Samuel
Geer, should you have further occasion for corresponding
with that gentleman) and were very sorry you had felt so
much anxiety about us. We should have written if we could
have got the letters to Kansas City short of taking them
there ourselves on foot. I think you would hardly have
wished us to do that, certainly not until we had "got shet
of the ager"–– Well just at this present moment
in which I am writing we are "shet" of it, but have
no security that we shall stay so till the close of the
week.
John
suffers considerable with cold spells, the effect of the
ague, though his health is gradually improving he thinks––
If we could only have warm weather once more 'twould help us
all, but our house is so cold, and the cold weather seems to
hang on just for spite. I believe we have not had but one
comfortable day since the Sat. before Christmas. Christmas
week was intensely cold, we could not keep warm with both
stoves, and what was worse John was hardly fit to be out at
all, and I could not do anything. Wednesday morning the
thermometer stood at 28 deg. below zero. Some
families had to abandon their houses & go to their
neighbors who were fortunate in having warmer ones––altogether
it was one of the most "trying" times that I have suffered
since we came into the Territory–– A lady who
called here yesterday told me that two of her daughters
during that week froze their feet so that they are now
unable to walk a step, and said there were large running
sores two thirds the size of the palm of her hand on them
now. Two more women told John that they froze their feet
sitting right by the stove.–– Such are some of
the hardships which Kansas settlers endure–– For
myself I only had a chill every day. I have not had any
chills now for two whole days and I feel and act very much
like a little girl with some new plaything. I am much better
than when John last wrote, but hardly expect to stay so long––
I will leave a little room for John–– He is
quite busy to day or I should not have written at all. . . .
No more at present
P.
S. Frank called his mother an "old scamp," this morning––
A remarkable specimen of precociousness! He is not always so
saucy as that––John
Dear Father,––
I
have very little to add to what Sarah has written to
Cynthia. We wrote you last week acknowledging the receipt of
the $23.75 draft, and the week before we mailed a letter
acknowledging $20 from Robert, and $3. & $1. from home.
We feel very grateful for this help, although I fear the
times are hard with you, with the diminished Cenhadwr list.
The mails will be regular now, and I hope our communications
more regular. Yesterday I was up to my claim to get some
corn fodder. To day I am going to look for a cow that has
wandered. We have not seen her for 7 weeks. We heard
yesterday where she was. At this house we have no barn, no
fences, no yard. Our two cows and two calves all went away
when we stopped milking. We have got back one cow, and heard
from the other, and heard where at least one of the calves
was within the last fortnight. We hope to be better prepared
next winter if our health and lives are spared, and we
remain in the territory. In the summer, it is customary here
to let the cows run on the prairie, and let the calves take
half the milk, then the cows will come up to the calves.
Most winters cattle will live here after a poor fashion
without fodder.–– "The oldest inhabitants" here,
intelligent Indians, do not remember any thing like the
severity of this winter. One of our Quaker neighbors, who
has been in the Ter. 5 yrs. (in the Friends Mission, I
believe) never knew the thermometer more than –8°
below zero, but the sun frequently has risen upon us at –8°
& -10° & -12°. Yesterday was a moderate,
pleasant day, south wind. To day the wind howls at us
menacingly from the Northeast. How has the winter been with
you? You have got the railroad to Remsen now. . . .
I
suppose you have read in the Tribune about the troubles
which the "border ruffians" have been causing in Lawrence,
Leavenworth, Kickapoo &c. We read them with the same
spectator interest that you do. We do not feel their
burden. We are very quiet here. We hope soon literally to be
sitting under our own vines (Isabellas & Catawbas) with
no Missourians to molest or make us afraid. In one respect
the Missouri invasion was not without benefit. They have
learnt that the Eastern Emigrants are no cowardly beggars
(as represented to them) but provident, industrious men,
ready (if dire necessity compel them) to stand up and defend
their rights. The community here are very nearly united on
the free-state question. But the majority would dislike and
resent being called abolitionists. . . . Our community here
are mostly Western people, some from Slave States. There is
a prevailing sentiment against admitting negroes into the
territory at all, slave or free. The Western people are far
the most numerous in the territory. The country is so
different from our Eastern country and the character of
Eastern emigration is such (a majority as far as I have seen
village mechanics with ideas enthusiastically excited) that
I think one-half at least of Eastern people return. Those
who stay love the country as they get used to it. The
Western people find much such a country as they left behind
them, and settle right down, build their cabins, fence and
break up their fields and drop their corn, before you hardly
know they are here. They have a strong instinct against
slavery, do not want it about them, but lack the strong
moral sense of its injustice which we feel.
We
are anxious to stay here another season if we can. We do not
like to turn back. The country in the main is very pleasant
to us. We sigh for our home friends, and we miss your
tumbling brooks, cool wells, frequent streams. Those used to
the ague tell us we probably shall not be troubled with it
longer -than till Spring. Can a country without swamps be
subject to ague, after acclimation? If we can enter our
claim and preempt it, I think it will be worth enough to pay
us for coming here and I guess more.
Osawatomie, Feb. 1, 1856.
Dear Father,
No
mail has arrived without bringing us some welcome news from
home till this week. Perhaps we will get two next week. I
just take my pen and paper to let you know how we are, and
not to write a letter. Sarah has had no chill since we wrote
last. She is gaining strength a little. Franky is quite
well. He is very busy when he feels at all well. He is
writing a letter now on a chair, beside me, .as he sees his
father writing, but I think the specimen of his chirography
which we sent last week will suffice for a time at least. My
health continues about the same. I fear I cannot do a great
deal till the weather moderates. Yesterday was a very
pleasant, mild day. At the warmest, mercury at 34°.
Last Monday morning, mercury at 17° below zero.
Today the wind blows cold from the North. Many cattle have
died this cold weather. They do not make calculations here
for such cold weather. The "skyey influences" I have noticed
here are quite different from those I used to observe at
home. I have seen what are called "sundogs" thrice, and once
I noticed the same phenomenon about the moon––three
moons––one faint one on each side of their
central prototype, with rainbow-hued shafts above and below
them. I noticed the other evening a column of light just
after sunset, extending from the place of sunsetting the
apparent width of the sun, half way up the sky. It resembled
the tail of a comet except in its uniform width. But it was
ten times brighter than any comet's tail I have seen. I have
seen no auroras here.
You
see I have nothing to write. You get the general news of the
territory as soon, perhaps sooner, through the Tribune, than
we get them. Were Missouri a free State, with the railroad
facilities of Illinois (and why should she have fewer?) you
would be nearer the news centres of Kansas at 1500 miles
distance than we at 50. How does it sound to hear the steam
horse snort and whistle in Remsen? It would be quite an
additional inducement to go home to think of riding in the
cars clear to Remsen.
If
any of you has a receipt to make ink, send it to me, and if
the more rare materials, such as nutgalls, do not
weigh over 1/2 or 1 oz. send them too.
Sarah
sends love particularly to father and mother, and to all the
rest. I join. Do not be discouraged in writing to us.
P. S. I do not remember
that I have thanked you for the stamps. They were very
welcome indeed. We were out, and could not then buy any here
then.
If
you have more than one key to Uncle Tom, we would be very
glad if you could send us one. We could do good with it by
lending it. They need light here on that subject.
Dear Father,
Sissy's
of March 4 received this week. We are very busy this week,
making our cabin habitable, with new roof, a floor, windows,
a door, &c. Have no time to write. Must be off early in
the morning, with the carpenter, in a wagon I have borrowed,
after the blind mare, and come home late evenings. I am in
usual health. Sarah has had one chill since I wrote last
week. Sarah joins me in love to all at home. In haste
John.
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
Dear Father
We
received your letter containing the draft for $40.19 this
week, for which we are very thankful. We are moving to day.
Our house we have made pretty comfortable. But it has cost
about $40, besides my own labor for nearly 3 weeks. I owe
about $30 of this. We borrowed a one-horse harness and wagon
to go up and back every day. My blind mare is quite
servicable. She will trot along on a smooth road as well as
if she had eyes. I have been getting up a club for the
Tribune––20 copies on the $20 plan. I do not
like to trust the money through the border ruffian mails
East of us. A letter to the Tribune might be considered
subject to detention and examination. Besides I will have to be dependent on you for some more money if possible.
Will you send $20 to Greeley & McElrath for 20 Weekly
Tribunes to be directed to B. Woodbury, Osawatomie, Kansas
Ter.? If I can I will try to save out that amount till I
hear from you, so that if it will be too great an
inconvenience for you to spare it I will send it.
I
shall not buy a wagon till I see if I can pay for it. The
most encouraging thing I have to write is that my health is
better than it has been in the territory or for long before
I came here, excepting a severe cold I have just now.
Sarah's health continues poor, but better than it has been.
I am concerned to hear that Robert's health does not improve
faster. I wish I were there, so I might be with him now. But
I must close with love to all at home. How is your Cenhadwr
list this year? The weather is quite mild here now. If we
had your frequent showers grass would be abundant. As it is,
there is enough for cattle to live on it. Send me a currant
slip or two in a newspaper.
John
[John R. Everett to His Sister,
Cynthia]
Dear Sissie
We
received yours of March 27 this week. Also the four pretty
little envelopes in it. Those envelopes are almost too tasty
for pioneers. We have felt quite satisfied lately, if we
could have an old envelope to turn and enclose a
letter. [16] We are
now in our own cabin. We find it very comfortable for
summer. I shall have to fix it as I have time to make it
warm for winter. We have a neat clapboarded door, a puncheon
floor, smoother than common for such floors, a pair of
stairs where they generally have a ladder, a window below,
and a half window above. Our house is 13 1/2 ft. by 15 1/2
inside.
The
weather has got quite mild. The trees are beginning to leave
out. We would call it very dry, if we were in New York but
the soil here seems used to dry weather, and remarkably
retentive of moisture. We have plenty of spring water now on
our claim on every side of us.
We
all call ourselves well now. Sarah's health has improved
wonderfully for a few days. I hope we are free from the ague
now. There is less complaining of it now than at any time
since last August. Franky likes his new home. "This is a
pleasant house," he says. . . .
I
wrote father last week, acknowledging his letter from Utica,
with the draft of $40.19. Send me a few currant slips in
newspapers. Cut off just last years growth. Shorten them
from the end so as to get them in a paper. Also a Fastolf
raspberry root, if you can. I believe Lewis or Eddy or Tommy
could find a Pision of a pie plant root not weighing over
two to four ounces. You could send that in a letter, perhaps
with a little moss around it. A pint of apple seed came to
this office in a letter last mail.
I send a
little prairie flower. . . .
Longwood Place [17] Apr. 28, 1856.
My Dear Sister Sarah
The
duties of the farm prevented our writing any letters
to anyone last week, but I hope our folks, as they know we
are in the country and consequently inconvenient to the P.
0., will feel no alarm in not hearing from us till the
arrival of this.
I
am sure they need not scold us for that little neglect as in
other respects we have been most dutiful children, complying
with their often repeated desire that we would get well,
which I especially have done, as has also John to the best
of his ability–– He however deemed it advisable
to shake once more, which he did yesterday in his usual
straight-forward manner. He had probably taken some cold as
we had just had a cold rain that he had been out in a little––
I am as well as I need ever expect to be–– We
are both, Little Franky also, very fleshy and should we
continue to enlarge our fleshly boundaries in the same ratio
as we are now doing, you will need if it is many years
before we visit you, to order new and enlarged chairs and
bed-stead for our accommodation, But this is not what I
commenced my letter to tell you about–– I want
to know in the first place before I commit myself, how many
flowers have you gathered this spring? how many kinds have
you seen?
If
the Quakeress Sarah Ann, wife of Richard, had not called in
this afternoon I would have culled a dozen or more choice
prairie flowers for you a boquet and put them in this
letter, perhaps you'll get them in another one of these
days. Let me name some of the flowers I have seen]
within a few days, first the little spring beauties such as
have always greeted me in early spring in every land that
has sheltered me; next, wild sweet Williams. Those two are
old familiar friends. Then the violets. Three kinds I have
already seen––also four kinds of grass flowers,
one a beautiful little yellow star-like thing, the others
different varieties of white flower grass. There is
Lambtongue resembling the eastern Adder tongue, the
flowers white instead of yellow like the addertongue. Indian
paint is a name given to a little plant with deep yellow
flowers, the juice of the root paints a bright red and is
used by the Indians to paint their faces. There is another
plant in blossom here which the Indians designate Spring
because the juice of its pod furnishes them drink sometimes
when traveling where water can not be obtained. We have
plenty of Wild Cherry blossoms quite near our house, and a
little flower peculiarly beautiful, the blossom of wild or
sheep sorrel. Did you ever see it in Steuben? I never
noticed it till I saw it on the prairies in Kansas although
the leaves are perfectly familiar. The flower is a fine
purplish pink and altogether quite enchanting. That I
believe numbers all that I have seen, though I noticed today
a cluster of buds on an Indigo plant that grows by the path
leading down to our spring, were nearly bursting into bloom––
I think we shall be able to count them among our April
flowers yet–– What think you of our flowery
home? Come out here and I will show you our building spot
and if you dont almost swoon with the overpowering beauty of
the surrounding scenery––dont visit Niagara on
your way back. You couldnt appreciate its sublimity––
I must close for John has come in for his supper––and
tis, after seven so I presume his appetite will not relish a
long delay
Yours mid flowers and sunshine
Sarah M. C. E.
Osawatomie Monday evening.
[April 28, 1856]
Dear Father
The
rainy season has nearly come. This, with our distance now
from the mail may make the intervals longer between the
mails. Rain affects the streams here more than with you. We had an all-day rain last week, following a rain
two days before, and the creek, that runs through our wood,
that we generally step across, and that was sometimes dry
last summer, was a rod wide. I was just starting to the
village, but that stopped me effectually. If I had crossed
that, I could not have crossed the Pottawatomie, for the
flood carried away a fallen tree, our foot-bridge across
that stream. I do not think I shall now try to buy a wagon
this summer our house has cost so much; perhaps not a
harness without I can see it perfectly clear for me to do
so. Sarah is going to try to make a saddle. I feel very
anxious about Robert.
Your affectionate son
John.
P. S. I wrote two weeks
ago, requesting you to send twenty dollars for twenty copies
of the weekly Tribune to this place. I retained the money,
hoping you could advance it for me. I feel mortified every
time I think of it to have been obliged to do so. We could
neither of us do any work of account for seven months, and a
part of the time could not do the necessary work of the
house. But we hope brighter days, are before us. We expected
some chills this spring, but so far have been better than we
expected–– John
Osawatomie
may now boast of a printing press. It was in Kansas a week
ago, and probably is now in town. [18]
Osawatomie, June [MS. illegible]
1856. [19]
Dear Father
We
were disappointed in not getting our usual letter from home
this week. Hope you are all well, and that our dear brother
Robert is no worse. We have nothing disastrous to record of
ourselves. We are in the enjoyment of our usual health. The
border ruffians have been in our immediate neighborhood, but
we did not know of it till two days afterward. A week to day
the two companies of soldiers encamped here left for
Lawrence. [20] In the
afternoon of that day the border ruffians to the number of
150 came into the village of Osawatomie. They immediately
commenced pillaging, stealing horses, &c. They went to
the principal boarding house, where there were a great many
emigrants stopping, who had not yet made homes of their own.
They broke open all the trunks, took all the money they
could find and all the firearms they could find in the
house. They went to all the private houses, and took all
their arms. They took all the horses they could find around,
about 14 in all. Mrs. Mendenhall, a widow and a Quaker, had
two horses at the blacksmith's shop that afternoon, but he
could not shoe them, and she left about fifteen or twenty
minutes before the thieves came in, and so saved her horses.
This was a total surprise to the people here, but I was not
at all surprised when I heard of it. The soldiers came
without our request and went away just in the only time they
were at all wanted. They seem to be only efficient when on
the side of the Missourians. That is of a piece with the
whole machinery of justice. Free state men here are treated
just as negroes are at the South. They are a class devoted
to oppression and persecution, and when protection is needed
that protection is at a point where it is not wanted. This
same band of marauders were at Prairie City (called also
Palmyra or Hickory Point) the day before. There was a camp
of free state men there too, determined to drive them back.
At that crisis Col. Sumner appears. He commands both parties
to disband. [21] The
free state party obeys. The other party promise to obey, and
go off in the direction of Westport in Missouri. But as soon
as Col. Sumner is well gone, they commenced stealing horses,
and turned their course here. There is another company of
cavalry here now. Their Captain is said to be a free State
man, but I do not suppose that makes any difference; he
obeys orders.
Hope
you will not feel alarmed about us. It seems to me if the
North at all realized our situation, they would with one
voice administer a rebuke to the present infamous
administration, who for a short lease on the spoils of
office, deliver us over as victims to the marauding
Missourians, that would be felt and heeded. Look at it. Our
prominent men are captured and imprisoned or driven out of
the state, some murdered, others imprisoned without even
knowing the crime charged against them, and the worst
enemies of the actual settlers are furnished by Gov. Shannon
with U. S. arms and munitions of war. Such are the actual
facts.
We try to
"possess our souls in patience," and hope for the best.
Please
send the enclosed $2 to the Tribune for additions to B.
Woodbury's list at Osawatomie. I sent $4 about 2 weeks ago
to you for the same. If not received I suppose it will be
their loss as I enclosed it before the P. M.
My dear Son
Yours
and Sarah's and Franky's letter dated May 31st was
received last evening––very welcome indeed––
Since the occurrence on Pottawattomie Creek which we had
seen in the papers we were very much alarmed for your safety––and
we are still so, as I saw last evening that about 100 armed
men were preparing to come over from Westport to "Scour
Southern Kansas of all Abolitionists &c", which must
include your little spot–– I fear you will not
be safe–– And I do not think Sarah would be
safe, as she hints, to remain alone to take care of the
place! Oh no, if you have to flee, you had better all come.
But I hope this storm may yet in some way be averted. Take
your neighbors the Quakers' position of non-resistance––calmness––and
kindness to your bitterest foes,––and in the
Lord's hands you will be safe.–– ... . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
Your father
Robert
Everett.
Osawatomie, June 27, 1856.
Dear Father
As
there is room on this sheet I use it to write a few lines.
We are in the enjoyment of our usual health, and nothing
evil has befallen us since we last wrote for which we should
be thankful. The soldiers are still here. Our printing
office was not destroyed as reported I see in the Eastern
papers. It was buried in the ground and they could not find
it. [22] Neither were
there any houses burned as reported. When Lawrence was
sacked, we heard the same account as you first got, but the
subsequent accounts came correctly. So with our place. A
great many rumors fly, about the same occurrence. And when
they come to be printed they seem like accounts of different
events. Thus all the accounts you read of disturbances on
the Pottawatomie and Osawatomie have their origin in the
killing of the five pro-slavery men about 8 miles from
Osawatomie, [23] and
the raid upon Osawatomie. That is as far as our immediate
neighborhood is concerned. We hear by every one that comes
in from a little distance of outrages, robberies and
murders. A few days ago Mr. William] Gay the
Shawnee Indian agent was shot a little way from Westport by
some of Buford's South Carolinians. [24] But it is only where the odds are
overwhelming and by private assassination that the slavery
men get the advantage. In every open contest so far the free
state party have been successful. I believe our friends have
not the least idea of abandoning the contest. We feel that
we are right in principle, we have a great majority of
actual residents, and the heart of the North is with us. I
was very sorry to see that Fillmore had lent his name to the
use of the houseburners, thieves and murderers
here. [25] I thought
even he had too much sense and humanity left for that. I
pray God he may not have many followers. If Northern men
could see things as they are here, the Republican candidate
would receive 99 out of every 100 votes I verily believe. I
fear we shall see more troublous times yet, unless something
effectual is done for us at the East. Why does not the House
of Representatives initiate something bold, decided and
effectual and make their weight felt as it should be.––
Remember when you read of our place in the papers that we
are 2 1/2 South of Osawatomie. The centre of
disturbances is North, and that way the invaders
come. They might burn the town to the ground, and we not
know it till next day, unless we saw the smoke over the
woods that line the Pottawatomie.
It
is a very great pleasure to hear from home so regularly.
Hope that ours reach you safe. We have not missed a week in
writing for a long time. Must close now with love to all
from John.
(To be
continued in May Quarterly)
Notes
[1] The Kansas Historical Society is indebted to the Rev. J. E. Everett, of Brewster, N. Y., a
son of John and Sarah Everett, for permission to publish these letters.

[2] John R. Everett
was born in North Wales, February 24, 1820, and came to this country
with his parents in the spring of 1823. He was graduated in 1840 from
Oneida Institute, of Whitesboro, N. Y., where he learned the printing
trade. He followed this trade in his father's printing establishment
until a short time before removing to Kansas. 
[3] Sarah M. C. Everett,
was born January 23, 1830, in Edmeston, N. Y. She attended Mount Holyoke
seminary for a time and taught school. She and John Everett were married
July 19, 1852. Her death occurred at Corry, Pa., August 21, 1864. 
[4] Frank aged twenty
months; Henry, six months. 
[5] Robert Everett's
ministerial work in America was in both English and Welsh churches.
In 1840 he established a Welsh magazine of religion and reform, Y
Cenhadwr Americanaidd (The American Messenger), which was
pledged to abolition and prohibition. He edited and published this paper,
with the assistance of members of his family, until his death in 1875.
His other literary work included the compilation of a Welsh hymn book.
See Dictionary of American Biography (Charles Scribner's
Sons, N. Y., 1931), v. VI, pp. 226-227. 
[6] The original plat
of present Kansas City, Mo., filed in 1839, designated the settlement
Town of Kansas. This was generally shortened to Kansas. The name was
later changed to City of Kansas and finally to Kansas City. 
[7] The Massachusetts
Emigrant Aid Company was incorporated in April, 1854, but organization
was never completed. Operations were carried on during 1854 under the
management of a board of trustees using the title Emigrant Aid Company
and a new charter was secured in February, 1855, under the title New
England Emigrant Aid Company. The hotel here referred to was the American
House, owned by the latter company. It was a stopping place for settlers
on their way to Kansas and headquarters for Free-State people. 
[8] For a brief sketch
of Baptiste Peoria, see The Kansas Historical Collections, v.
XII, p. 339, footnote. 
[9] The name Osawatomie
was formed by combining portions of the names Osage and Pottawatomie.

[10] By the terms
of the treaty of May 10, 1854, the Shawnees surrendered to the United
States their reserve of 1,600,000 acres and received back 200,000 acres
for distribution among members of the tribe. The diminished reserve
was almost entirely within Johnson county. Each Shawnee was allowed
200 acres, or land was given to groups in unPided quantity. By the terms
of article 3 of the treaty, the United States agreed to pay to the tribe
in consideration of the cession and sale of lands, the sum of $829,000,
of which $40,000 was to be invested by the government for educational
purposes, $700,000 paid in seven equal annual installments and the residue
of $89,000 to be paid after the last installment. 
[11] See Footnote
No. 5. 
[12] The so-called
science of phrenology, which claimed a relationship between the faculties
of the mind and the regions of the brain, flourished on this continent
during the middle of the nineteenth century. The American Phrenological
Journal was published by Fowlers & Wells of New York. The Water-Cure
Journal and Herald of Reforms was another publication of this house.
Water-cure, or hydropathy, was a method of treating disease by the copious
use of water, both internally and externally. It was closely allied
to other reform movements of the period. 
[13] Ague, the commonest
form of malarial fever, was the enemy of early travelers and settlers
in the territory. Journals and letters of the period contain frequent
references to the disease which was marked by paroxysms of chills and
fever occurring at intervals. 
[14] Richard Mendenhall
came to Kansas territory from Indiana in 1846 to act as teacher for
the Society of Friends at their mission in Johnson county for the Shawnee
Indians. Sarah A. Nixon had come to the mission at the same time as
matron. She and Richard Mendenhall were married in 1849 and returned
to Indiana the following year. They came again to the mission in 1854,
remaining about a year. In the fall of 1855 they removed to a claim
about two and one half miles southwest of Osawatomie. 
[15] Orville C. Brown's
connection with Osawatomie actually persisted for several years. Brown
with William Ward of New York and Samuel Pomeroy, the latter acting
for the England Emigrant Aid Company, was one of the original proprietors
of Osawatomie. For a brief statement of the difficulties marking the
early history of the town, see Russell Hickman, "Speculative Activities
of the Emigrant Aid Company," The Kansas Historical Quarterly,
v. IV, p. 258. 
[16] Many of the envelopes
in which these letters were mailed from Kansas had closed letters from
members of the family to John and Sarah Everett, and were in made to
serve a second time by turning. 
[17] John and Sarah
Everett gave this name to their Kansas farm home. 
[18] A small outfit
for publishing a paper was brought to Osawatomie in the spring of 1856
by Oscar V. Dayton and Alexander Gardner. During the border troubles,
the materials were hidden to save them from demolition. 
[19] Contents of the
letter indicate that it was written on June 14. 
[20] Maj. John Sedgwick,
with a company of dragoons, had just left for Fort Leavenworth. 
[21] Governor Shannon
had issued a proclamation on June 4 commanding persons belonging to
military companies unauthorized by law to disperse. Sumner was here
enforcing the order. 
[22] See Footnote
No. 18. 
[23] James P. Doyle
and his two sons, William Sherman and Allen Wilkinson, were murdered
on the night of May 24 by a Free-State party led by John Brown. 
[24] A company of
armed Southerners under Maj. Jefferson Buford, of Eufaula, Ala., arrived
in the territory in the spring of 1856. They participated in the sack
of Lawrence, and before their gradual departure engaged in various lawless
activities. 
[25] Millard Fillmore
was nominated for President on the ticket of the American or "Know-Nothing"
party in 1856. The party platform included upholding of the fugitive
slave law. 
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