Pioneer Days, Grant Co., WI

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This transcript was submitted by Mary Thiele Fobian (metaphor4 @ sbcglobal . 
net)

PIONEER DAYS

Grant County Herald 
Lancaster, Wisconsin 
Wednesday, June 27, 1928
Pioneer Days 
 
The following interesting story of pioneer experiences, “Covered Wagon 
Days,” was told to Henry Damm by Mrs. Laura A. Knapp, who resides with her 
daughter, Mrs. Grant Hampton. Mrs. Knapp was 87 years old last February.  
 
It was 68 years ago on the 9th day of April 1860, that a company of people 
from Potosi and vicinity, many from Boice Creek and Hurricane, started on a 
journey to California to seek gold. The news had been coming through for years 
of the richness of the gold fields, and in those years, beginning with the 
first rush in ’49, miners had left this region in wholesale quantities.  
 
Early spring, just as soon as the snow was off the ground or even sooner, was 
the time set for the pioneer movers to begin the trip. This with the slow 
moving wagons drawn by horses or more often, oxen, was obviously necessary. 
“Californ-i-a” as it was called in the early days, was nearly two thousand 
miles away. Twenty miles a day was fast travel—often the teams did not make 
12. So the start of the Potosi party in early April was in keeping with the 
times.  
 
Heartbreaking Goodbyes 
 
Our travelers bid “goodbye” to the home folks and many a tear was shed. No 
one nowadays can realize the deepness of those farewells. The travelers were 
going across an almost pathless country, facing the perils of the wilderness, 
the loneliness of the trail, the fear of being killed or (worse still) 
captured by the hostile Indians, starvation, thirst, weariness, illness, 
perhaps death in a lonely grave by the trail. No wonder the home folks, in 
what was a comparatively settled country, said “goodbye” to the loved ones 
with a sinking of the heart–they might not see them again! 
 
That was years before the railroad. Methods of travel to California were 
several–one could go by water route and around “the horn” or across the 
Isthmus of Panama. There were various land routes to the west. The most 
popular was by “covered wagon” over the fertile but as yet untilled prairies 
of Iowa, across the lush plains of Nebraska, thence to the deserts of Wyoming, 
Utah and Nevada and finally into the “Promised Land”–“Californ-i-a”. Oxen 
were used in most cases to draw the wagons. The big cattle fared better than 
the horses and were less liable to illness and foot trouble. Speed was not the 
essential element–the main idea was to get there. In our procession there were 
two rigs drawn by horses. One was occupied by the train captain and the other 
by a young couple. I said “young” but in those robust times all were young 
in heart if not in years. 
 
The Make-up of Our Party 
 
The company leaving Potosi was made up of eighteen families, or 
representatives of that many families, as follows: 
 
George MacFarland and family (Mr. MacFarland was the captain of the company) 
Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Knapp and family (I, Laura was a member), James Hogle and 
wife, John and William Richardson, Rufus Hall, Dick Travis, William and John 
McKelvey, Calvin Clandennin and family, John Salnave, J.D. Cenfield, Wash. 
Wright and family, Wm. Knapp, Wm. Grisby, Mr. Ashly and family, Jacob Slaght 
and James Bonham (father of Dora Bonham Knapp). There were others but I cannot 
now recall their names.  
 
Nowadays it takes but thirty minutes to speed by motor car from Potosi to East 
Dubuque. When our pioneer party went through it took them two days to make the 
trip! What is now known as East Dubuque was then called “Dunleith,” a much 
prettier name to my way of thinking.  
 
We spent the first night in the Mississippi valley and it was quite chilly as 
it frequently is at that time of the year. We arrived at Dunleith the next 
day. In those days the whole of southern Wisconsin and northern Illinois was 
covered with timber. Here and there in the uplands were scattered patches of 
prairie. There was no bridge across the big river at Dunleith so we had to be 
ferried over, a team at a time, to Dubuque. Dubuque in those days was a 
frontier town and was a bustling place. Practically all the travel north and 
south was via the big river and Dubuque was a shipping point for a wide 
region. Then there was a well developed lumber business, lead and zinc mining 
and fur trading. Oh, there was lots of business done in those days too but in 
different ways from now.  
 
Iowa: One Great Prairie 
 
From Dubuque our party slowly wended its way across the state of Iowa. 
Northern Iowa [then] and for many years later was unsettled. There were great, 
wide stretches of prairie that had never been touched by a plow. Here and 
there along the streams were patches of timber. As in Wisconsin, the pioneer 
settlers hunted for wood and water locating there. They left the big fertile 
prairies alone. These people did not live in the draws along the streams 
because they wanted to [but] because they had to. Wood and water were 
essentials of life and the time of intensive farming was yet to come.  
 
Stock Swam the Great Missouri 
 
After many days of travel we arrived at Council Bluffs. This place and Omaha 
across the river, were mere trading points. Omaha had a fort. There was a 
ferry making the trip across the Missouri river. The ferrymen agreed to take 
our people and wagons over, but the oxen and horses had to swim the stream. As 
it is now, the Missouri was a yellow, brawling stream from the north, fast and 
cold. But the animals all made the trip.  
 
At Omaha we had to lay in enough provisions to make the long journey to Salt 
Lake City, Utah territory, as there was no place in between to get supplies. 
Meat and flour were the main provisions although some other items were 
included. Nothing, fancy, I can assure you. The oxen were expected to pick 
their living as they went along. To be Continued.
 
 
Grant County Herald 
Lancaster, Wisconsin 
Wednesday, July 4, 1928
Pioneer Days
(As told to Henry Damm by Mrs. Laura A. Knapp.) 
 
I spoke of how the stock swam the river. This was necessary as there was no 
bridge across the Big Muddy from Council Bluffs to Omaha in those days and 
ferry accommodations were meager. The ferry was a barge which had runways on 
each end so that rigs could be driven on. Passengers stood in the barge while 
being carried across the swift river. A high cable swung from bank to bank and 
the boat was attached to the cable by means of a shorter cable and pulleys so 
that the cable extended from upper pulley to the boat and back again. By 
moving the rope around a windlass, the boat moved forward under direction of 
the current which tended to force the boat downstream but this direction was 
prevented by the sustaining pulleys. The boat thus moved forward at a rapid 
rate.  
 
It was interesting to see how the oxen and other cattle would ford the stream. 
These animals are natural swimmers and once in the water will almost bury 
themselves while they swim vigorously, their heads pointed somewhat upstream. 
The cattle made a long crossing of it and were carried downstream quite a ways 
but all got over safely. 
 
Omaha in those days was little more than a frontier trading village, albeit a 
busy one. Parties bound for the West outfitted there and generally had a few 
days rest before undertaking the long trip ahead. The town was full of 
teamsters, Indians, soldiers and frontiersmen to say nothing of the many wagon 
trains and bands of people enroute west or east. Steamboats piled up and down 
the river, flat-bottomed affairs carrying miners for the Montana gold fields, 
settlers, supplies, etc. 
 
Our party numbered sixty wagons when we left Omaha, travelers banding for 
safety against hostiles. The train was half a mile long and it looked 
picturesque as it wound over the hills on long trail [sic]. The train captains 
speeded back and forth on their horses, looking after the comfort and welfare 
of the various travelers and seeing that everything [was] ship-shape for the 
trip. We were all in good spirits and health and now we were over the Missouri 
felt that at least a part of our trip was done with. 
 
The prairies in the spring and summer were beautiful. The grass grew 
everywhere and there were myriads of wild flowers. As we went along we built 
air castles, dreaming as people always will of the pot of gold at the end of 
the rainbow. 
 
We never traveled on Sunday. The Sabbath was devoted to worship in the morning 
and rest in the afternoon. Necessary work connected with the trip, repairs, 
etc., were made while the teams were resting. 
 
I well remember those rousing religious services we had in the open on Sunday 
mornings. A lady of the train conducted services. She carried a book of 
sermons and ably filled the position. 
 
The trip through Nebraska territory was uneventful but beautiful. There were 
no hostiles in that region, the tribes of Pawnee along the river and Sioux 
further west, being held in subjection by the soldiers. There was a large fort 
at Kearney named after the famous Indian fighter, Gen. Phil Kearney. Soldiers 
from the forts patrolled the travel routes and kept a pretty close watch on 
the hostiles. However, it was dangerous for a single party to lag behind the 
main train as straggling Indians were apt to strip the laggards of all they 
had if not worse. 
 
Despite our general feeling of security, every precaution was taken. At night 
the wagons were formed in a semi-circle and the horses and oxen picketed. 
Guards were put out. We always slept with one ear and one eye open. 
 
The trip through Nebraska was via the Platte river valley to the forks of the 
Platte in western Nebraska. There the trail divided, one route going to 
Colorado and the other northwest into what is now Wyoming. We took the 
northern route, saying goodbye to many friends we had traveled with for days 
from Omaha. These friends took the southern route into Colorado. 
 
As we went west the country grew drier and drier and the water became 
impregnated with alkali. Many of the oxen got sore feet and had to be replaced 
by others from camps along the line. Men made it a business of keeping well 
oxen on hand to be traded for sick ones—plus a consideration. Much of the 
stock died from drinking the poisonous alkali water. 
 
Mr. Knapp had to exchange an ox and the man he traded with saw a fancy quilt 
in our wagon and wanted it as part of the boot. We demurred as the quilt 
represented a lot of hard work but he would not trade otherwise. So the quilt 
went west and we got our new ox. 
 
There was a great deal of fun and interest along the trail despite the 
hardships. The men and older boys walked with the wagons while the women and 
small children rode inside. At night there would be gatherings by the fires 
and song and story for an hour or two until the order came to go to bed. 
 
Two baby boys were born on the trip. Oscar Knapp was born August 16, 1860, in 
Nevada, just before the train crossed the line into California. This was two 
weeks before we reached our destination. This incident caused a delay of only 
one day. We moved on the next day as this was hostile Indian country and we 
were afraid of an attack. Milton Hogle was the other boy born on the trip. 
Both boys lived and thrived. Mr. Knapp lives at Bloomington now but Mr. Hogle 
has been dead for many years. 
 
The roads in western Nevada were so rough that a man stood on each side of the 
wagon, holding it to prevent it from tipping. 
 
We landed in Carson county [sic], California, in September, five months after 
leaving Potosi. We stayed there ten years and then returned to Potosi. 
 
But one sad event occurred to mar our western trip. It was the death of Mr. 
Ashley’s wife. This lady succumbed to illness and was given a Christian 
burial. Her grave was marked with a piece of iron tire driven into the ground. 
The coffin was made from a rough feed box. Mrs. Ashley left two little girls 
besides her husband. The children received tender care from others in the 
party. 
 
The journey west in those days was a long one, marked with hardship. There 
were no railways and the roads were mere trails often impassible. 
Nevertheless, those who made the trip enjoyed it and frequently found 
comfortable homes on the other side of the western mountains. Many of the 
descendants of those pioneers reside there today.