Going to the West
by Janna Powers
March 16, 1859 – Northern Missouri
Today’s my fifteenth birthday! Ma was able to piece together paper wrappings that we save from going to the mercantile to serve as this diary. I git very little chances to write because I live on a farm. Since it’s my birthday, I don’t have to do all of my chores, so here I am writing atop the fence. Pa grows wheat and we have a small apple orchard. The apples have been doing poorly as of late. We hain’t had enough rain so now the trees are awful dry.
There are some gray clouds in the distance. It could be a typical spring thunderstorm or blessedly, rain. The wind is picking up. Even though it is my birthday, I still have to bring in Moo-Moo and Grange, our cows, from their picket lines. I will put this diary under a rock real quick so it won’t blow away. Be back in a jiffy.
Grange and Moo-Moo are safe in the barn now. I gave them their hay and an ear of corn each. They only git corn on special occasions. Ma’s going to make a cake with my favorite supper – chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls, and garden peas. Uh oh. Jerry’s coming over. I’ll bet he's bored. He is my favorite brother (and only brother) but here I was hoping I could write in peace. He normally says, “Ada, do you want to play marbles?”
Maybe more later.
Later – after supper
Well, that was some supper! Pa had mysteriously disappeared to town this afternoon, and he came back ‘bout ready to burst his suspenders with a huge grin. He had barely unhitched the horses before running into the house, sweeping Ma off her feet.
She was in the middle of peeling potatoes for supper. “Henry! I could have hurt you with this knife! What’s all the fuss for?”
“We’re goin’ to Oregon Territory, Mary! Carter’s done convinced me and we have enough money! Just think, rich soil, plenty of rai-”
Pa hadn’t finished saying “rain” afore it started pouring buckets! We went out and danced in the rain, celebrating that we finally had enough money to git to Oregon. It’s been a dream of Ma and Pa’s for some years, ever since the government made free land available out West. And perfect timing too. Pa’s been reading up on the trail, and the book says most wagon trains head out in late April or early May, depending on the grass. When the grass is green enough to feed the livestock, we leave.
Must stop now. My candle is just about out.
March 25, 1859 – Northern Missouri
I have been real busy lately! Ever since Pa said we’re going to Oregon, we’ve been packing. Our wagon can only hold so much as we don’t want to overwork the team. Out of the woodpile, Pa’s been making crates and boxes we can put our things in. Ma is taking her china, stove, pots and pans, all her clothes, and her rocking chair. We ain’t taking any furniture except that chair and two milk stools. There’s lots of trees in Oregon, so Pa won’t have any trouble making new furniture.
We also are having to work out who’s going to buy our farm. That extry money will be nice to have. The Weathermans are looking to add on to their farm. They live two miles away, and the added acreage would benefit their amount of corn. Mr. Weatherman and Pa are discussing the matter as I write.
I ain’t sure who else is going with us, but I do know that Uncle Carter and Aunt Isabel are coming. They have two little girls, Mandy and Rebecca.
Pa wants me to help waterproof our wagon and turn it into a prairie schooner. We’ll put pitch on the bottom and in between the cracks so it won’t sink on river crossings. He needs more pitch, must go now.
April 14, 1859 – Middle of Nowhere
We have pitched camp for the night. Our farm was sold two weeks ago, for a few hundred dollars. Everything was packed into the wagon. I was allowed a small box for my things, mainly this diary, three hair ribbons, two spare dresses, my petticoats, and the hairbrush Ma gave to me two years ago for Christmas. We left Northern Missouri a week ago and Pa says we’ll be in Independence in a few days. While there, we need to buy food.
I almost couldn’t believe the amount of food for a family of four. Here’s the list:
- 600 pounds of flour
- 80 pounds of cornmeal
- 200 pounds of bacon
- 160 pounds of sugar
- 40 pounds of coffee
- 60 pounds of dried fruit
- 20 pounds of salt
- 2 pounds saleratus (a baking powder-baking soda mix)
- 8 pounds of tea
- 60 pounds of beans
Will my family and I really eat 600 pounds of flour? And while I’m questioning, will we be sold rotten meat or supplies with maggots? Folks to travel on the trail in the past have had to toss their supplies, or so I’ve heard.
April 19, 1859 – Outside of Independence, Missouri
What a bustlin’ place this is! Carts and wagons everywhere on the streets, with livestock traders and buyers talking loudly over prices. The square is at the center of this smaller town. That is where we will buy our supplies. Pa’s going to purchase four oxen. They’re stronger than our horses, which brings me to the sad part. We have to sell Beau and Chestnut! I learned to ride on Beau when I was a tiny thing. We might be able to make it with two horses and four oxen, but that is highly improbable. Pa and I hold that it would be better for the horses to be well-fed than eat the thick grass on the trail. Folks traveling with horses and mules set out two weeks earlier than we do, so that the animals eat the shorter grass. Oxen prefer longer grass.
Ma wants me to go with her to buy our flour and bacon. I will be checking to make sure there ain’t any maggots, believe me!
April 26, 1859 – Still in Independence
The mule and horse folks left today. We won’t pull out for another two weeks because the grass has to git taller. I’m liking camp life. And, our cows have been producing milk nicely. Pa says they won’t always, especially as we go further west with drier climate, so we should appreciate it while it lasts. Ma wants to make butter for our bread, but we have no cellar out here to keep it cool in. If she does make some, we’ll have to eat it fast. That shouldn’t be a problem though. Folks share all kinds of things in camp. If someone forgot something, he or she usually has no difficulty finding someone who does and is willing to share.
In camp, I help Ma with the meals and wash the dishes. Although Jerry is only ten years old, he is a great help to Pa in caring for the livestock. Our neighbor, Mrs. Simmons, was fortunate enough to find some corn in town. She has a soft spot for cows, and she gave me two ears of corn. One for Moo-Moo, and one for Grange. Boy, were they happy to have a treat!
May 10, 1859 – 15 miles out on the trail
We woke up just before dawn at the sound of the bugle. Mr. Roberts, the wagon master (he’s the one who leads the train), rode up and down the train’s length telling folks to pack up and cook breakfast. I fried some bacon and hunted for eggs from our chickens. The bacon isn’t rotten, something for which I’m grateful. I sliced the bread that Ma made yesterday, and we had that too.
It was a mite windy today and sunny. Pa drove our wagon till we stopped for dinner. He said his arms were hurting him, probably from the strain of the reins. Ma had him rest for the entirety of our dinner stop, and she drove for half of the afternoon. As we continue westward, his arms won’t be so sore after a while.
May 23, 1859 – Evening, camped near a creek
The days have gotten hotter and the trail is very dusty. Our wagon ain’t at the front of the train, but it ain’t at the end either. Still, in the middle, we get a fair amount of dust. I met some new friends the other day. There’s the Woods and the Tabbers. The Woods have three children, one of whom is a boy my age named Lewis. He has a younger sister, Martha, and a younger brother, Nat. The Tabbers are an older couple, but they are as energetic as ever. Mr. Tabber is a blacksmith and Mrs. Tabber makes the most delicious blueberry pie. Some folks have had their harnesses break or an ox throw a shoe. He’s kept busy over his hot kiln when we’re not on the move. Jerry and I have watched him pound out a brand-new ox shoe on his anvil. Mr. Tabber likes to talk with us. He has a jolly laugh and is quick to offer assistance when needed.
Mrs. Tabber and Ma have become the best of friends. We often eat supper together, as we did this evening. Jerry is wanting to know if I would like to play hide-and-seek with him and the others. It’s one way to keep ourselves entertained, but we have to stay close to the wagon circle, for fear of wild animals or Indian attacks.
June 8, 1859 – Midday, in the wagon
It sure is cramped in here. There is space for a small bed for Jerry, and a milk stool to sit on. Our blankets are folded up in the corner next to Ma’s rocking chair. Boxes and crates line up against the wagon boards, and Ma’s stove is near the back for easy removal. I’m sitting on the milk stool, next to our large sacks of flour. Our supply has gotten a little smaller, but we have been doing fine on food.
Riding in the wagon is very bumpy and I always get jolted in the wrong places. This being the case, I normally walk alongside. Jerry runs here and there, calling up into the Woods’ wagon more often than not. Nat comes tumbling out and they walk together. They both brought their marbles and slingshots. It is a wonder they haven’t dropped or lost any of their marbles yet. When something small like that is dropped from the wagon bench, it can take a good deal of looking to find it. My hair ribbon came out yesterday after I beat Lewis in a running race. We must have looked for twenty minutes afore finding it. I quickly tamed my wild brown mane, plaiting it into a single, long braid to the side. Sometimes I pin it up and sometimes I don’t. I have not washed it in what feels like forever, but it’s probably only been a week. If we’re near water on Saturday nights, everyone in my family takes a bath. I have to brush my hair out afterwards and let it dry near the fire.
June 14, 1859 – Under the wagon
The rain has not let up all day. I rode in the wagon for most of our traveling today. The jolting was not as bad because of the mud. We had to stop several times because people got stuck, our wagon included. The men grabbed shovels to try and dig the wagons out. One poor family lost a wagon wheel to the mud, so we were delayed further.
It’s now evening, and the rain still has not stopped. Ma insisted that Jerry and I sleep on his small bed, but there was really no room. Thus, I am under the wagon, sleeping on top of thick blankets. The wet ground has not soaked them yet, and I do hope I shan’t wake up to another downpour. It is quite chilly under the wagon. My candle gives some warmth; however, I should blow it out so I can attempt sleeping.
July 1, 1859 – Independence Rock
Hurrah! We have just pulled into camp near Independence. Mr. Roberts is in high spirits this afternoon. Since we’ve reached Independence Rock before the Fourth of July, we are on schedule. If we had arrived after the glorious Fourth, we would have been more likely to encounter blizzards.
This rock also marks the half-way completion of our trip! We will stay for two days and celebrate. I think some folks brought a few firecrackers. The sky will be filled with exploding colors tonight. Even though it ain’t the Fourth yet, we’re still shootin’ them off. We can’t afford more’n two days off the trail.
I should go help Ma with our part of the big meal that our section of the train is sharing – skillet cornbread. Jerry and Lewis will probably ask if I want to race them later.