In
late January, 1855, Rev. William H. Goode left his temporary home in Wyandotte
to "make another round upon the district."
It had originally been planned that Rev. James Griffing would make the
journey down to the Marais de Cygnes Mission with him, but upon arriving on the
Wakarusa, he "failed to find there a certain local brethren" and so he
"continued the trip alone." [1]
The following account, written by Rev. Goode in his Outposts of
Zion, describes his excursion with James during the week of February 5,
1855:
Leaving these parts [Marais
de Cygnes], I entered the bounds of the Wakarusa Mission, where it had been
concerted that I should make a week's excursion with Rev. J. S. Griffing, who
was always ready for that kind of work. Taking the great Santa Fe road, we
traveled out [on February 5, 1855] into the neighborhood of Council City,
stopping upon a stream known as the Hundred and Ten, a place subsequently
notorious for its ability, with a small population, to poll a heavy vote. The
post [2] became a prominent
one in early Kansas history, and its proprietor acquired quite a name among its
first actors. He had some means; had a large number of men in his employ, and
his improvements were in advance of most others of that day. Making virtue of
necessity, we determined to pass the night with him incognito. We found good
"border ruffian" quarters and, for our money, were well treated. We
were directed first to a separate cabin where we found a comfortable fire, a
large stock of arms, and an imposing array of well-filled bottles, with a carte
blanche liberty in the use of their contents. A good Kentucky supper was
dispatched in one of the neat family cabins, whose female inmates seemed to
deserve a better association, after which we returned to our reception-room.
Conversation took a very free range, and we were able, unsuspected, to note many
items of interest... At a suitable hour we were invited to comfortable lodgings,
while the company entered upon the games and revelry of the night. Weary and
worn, we slept soundly till the scene closed, were awakened only by the
retirement of worn-out gamesters, then slept again till dawn [February 6, 1855].
Breakfast over, we paid our bill and left our host and his band [of ruffians]...
We
laid our course for the head-waters of the Wakarusa, past the town of
Brownsville [3] [later renamed Auburn] [4]...
On the succeeding day [February 7, 1855], we traveled
through the Pottawatomie Reserve, passing the residence of the lordly old
polygamist chief, and toward evening took up at the newly-laid-off town of
Topeka... then consisting of a solitary frame shanty occupied as a hotel, with a
cabin dormitory hard by, and a few claim structures in the suburbs. In this
vicinity, brother Griffing had, a short time before, out of his scanty
allowance, paid one dollar for a shortcake and half a dozen ears of
corn. [5] [6]
At
Topeka we found a company of intelligent, enterprising men, mostly at the time
from Pennsylvania, full of hope as to their town; laboring hard, and living on
rough fare. We were kindly received, found a place to stake out our animals, and
a little prairie hay to place before them. Our plain evening repast over, the
men assembled in the cabin room, and I endeavored to present, for the
acceptance, the Gospel "treasure" from 2 Cor. iv. 7. At bedtime
I found that I was to be exempted from a lot in the crowded, floorless, common
dormitory and honored with a superior position in the main building. Ascending
by the aid of a ladder to a high bunk, I stowed myself away, and slept securely.
The main article of diet for our evening and morning meal was "hasty
pudding," or, in western parlance, "corn mush," without any of
the accompaniments usually considered appropriate. But our hosts were kind and
generous, and our appetite good; we ate freely, and I trust with grateful
hearts...
...[On February 8, 1855, we passed] through Tecumseh
and, visiting Christian families on the way, we stopped at the cabin of a German
Methodist [named Francis Grassmuck [7] from Brookville, Indiana.
A meeting was agreed upon for the evening and brother Griffing set out at a
rapid gait upon his pony to notify the settlers...
From
[Tecumseh], we went to Lawrence where we held the 2nd quarterly meeting for the
Wakarusa Mission. Our place of service was the hotel, [8] a long sod building, thatched with prairie grass, the one great room
serving as dining room, parlor, and dormitory, a table with bench seats reaching
from end to end, and a line of double bunks stretching the same length, with
sleeping accommodations.
A week after his
"excursion" with Rev. Goode, James wrote the following to Augusta:
Wakarusa [Kansas Territory]
February 19, 1855
My
dear Augusta,
Owing
to a very great irregularity of the mails occasioned by the drifted snow, more
than a month has passed since I received a single word from yourself. Your last
[letter] -- I think -- was dated January 3rd in which you stated that you had
mailed one near Christmas which I have not yet received although I have often
inquired. For fourteen days no mail was received at St. Louis from Chicago. But
as I received a letter from [my] Brother Henry yesterday, it must be that a
connection has been again made. I was sorry I did not get his letter sooner as
he asked some questions which I suppose he wanted answered, and [now] the
probability is that [my response] will not reach him [before he departs for
Kansas]. I mail one to him and Almarin Warring with this letter in care of [my
brother] Ossy, which I hope he may get. It seems that [Henry] has made up his
mind to come here which I do think will be greatly to his interest and I shall
begin to look for him now in a few days. I hope he will surely come before the
rainey season which commences about the first of May. The roads are all now so
dry and hard. Our winter has truly
been very pleasant.
In
all, we have had only about two weeks of snow. Already the settlers are
commencing their spring work -- splitting rails, making fences, breaking
prairie. Everyone finds plenty to do and would be glad to obtain assistance if
possible. Emigration into the territory has been kept up nearly all winter --
mostly from the southern states. Very soon, however, they will begin to come in
from the north, just so soon as navigation opens. General [Samuel] Pomeroy, one
of the leading men at Lawrence who has just returned from the east, says that in
the city of Providence, Rhode Island, five hundred young men are enrolled to
come to Kansas this spring. Says that a similar excitement prevails in many
other cities that he visited.
Since
my last [letter], I have been on a trip with my good Presiding Elder Brother
Goode, away down in the south part of the territory and, although we met with
some pretty rough fare [at 110 mile creek], yet we had a very pleasant time. The
more I become acquainted with that man, the better I like him. We carried
provision in our saddlebags and grain for our horses in a small sack, carrying
matches in our pockets so that we could go in the timbers and strike a fire
should we be obliged to stop out over night. But Providence seemed to smile
[upon us] for we not only found cabins, but places where we could hold meetings
nearly every evening. People all seemed glad to see us and we as glad to find
them. We found many members of our church scattered about in the different
places and were as sheep without a shepherd.
The
country [through which we traveled] was more undulating than nearer the rivers
and the eminences much higher. We, however, passed many beautiful groves of
timber and fine clear streams of water, on either side of which was very level
rich bottom land -- as yet only the home of the deer and rabbit -- but must 'ere
a year expires be dotted all along with cabins. Sometimes we would travel nearly
the whole day without seeing a single house. At such times, how pleasant to stop
in a beautiful valley, let our beasts tether for awhile and, after commending
ourselves to the care of Him who numbers even the hairs of the head, seat
ourselves for our frugal repast. I
am sure I never would wish a dinner to relish better. I am sure it never tasted
better when I have been seated with the multitude where almost whatever the
appetite craved was easily obtained. Brother Goode is very companionable and one
cannot get lonesome in his presence if he should try. If my life should be
spared, with my good [pony] Jacob, I expect to make many such trips the coming
summers.
Did
I tell you what a time [Jacob and I] had one very cold evening this winter?
Jacob and myself were on our way to my appointment and were obliged to pass over
a section of country we never had before explored. It was about 20 miles from
where we were in the morning. I passed on in the direction for about 10 miles,
stopped and fed Jacob, and dined with an old Pottawatomie Indian. Mistaking the
place after which I was inquiring, the [Indian] placed me on the wrong road and
my course led me far away among the Indians -- no houses appearing along the
trail I was pursuing. I did not find anyone to inquire my whereabouts until near
sundown when, upon inquiring, I found I was farther from my [destination] than
when I started at noon. I should have stayed overnight but, as I had promised
Brother Goode to meet him at a certain place at a stated time, I was confident I
could not do it unless I reached the place of my appointment that night. I felt
sorry on Jacob's account, but thought best
to try it. Some Indians placed me on an old trail that they told me would take
me near the place [I wanted to go and] informed me where I must leave [the
trail] to find the house [I was seeking]. And so I started. The air was keen and
Jacob was tired and hungry. [Every so often] he would go nipping the top of the
weeds that grew up on either side of our path which were not covered with snow.
There was no moon but soon the stars appeared with unusual brilliancy. Not a
single house, cabin, or Indian wigwam was to be found along the whole route. The
winds had drifted the snow quite deep in some of the ravines, but as it had
thawed and frozen, [Jacob] was able to walk on the crust where it was so deep.
[We] often passed over places where it would have been over our heads had [the
crust given way and] we sunk down.
Oh how very still it
was that night. For a long ways could our footfall be heard upon the crusted
snow. We traveled on and on and on. I had missed the place for turning off [the
trail] and, on account of the snow, I found it quite difficult to keep the trail
so that I began to think surely poor Jacob must go without his supper that
night, [obtaining] only what he might gather along the way. Soon we came to
timber but, on feeling in my pockets, I found I had left my matches behind. (So
much lost for not being a smoker! Well, better be without some comforts and a
free man than to have them and be a slave to any bad habit.) I was confident,
however, we were on the headwaters of the Wakarusa, having come about 12 miles.
I was sure there must be settlers about somewhere. So I began to 'halloo' to see
if I could not start somebody's old housedog. I thought that if even [a dog]
would notice me, I would feel grateful. But all was in vain. We followed down
the timber about 8 [more] miles and espied a cabin to our great joy. We made for
it and found it tenanted by three men who told me where to put Jacob and gave me
a berth on the floor by a large fire until [day]light. Next day, I arrived home
about 2 o'clock -- [too late to meet Rev. Goode and accompany him down to the
Marais de Cygnes Mission]. Since then, I have been lost several times but not to
be out so long on so cold a night.
Please
write immediately. Tell me all about [my brother] Henry and your brother
[James], or any others that may be coming out this way. Tell me just how Mother
is. My health has not been better for some time. If this reaches you before
James starts, tell him to be sure and provide well with good stout clothing --
something that would be first rate to go berrying in -- as there is a running
rose vine and some other [wild bushes] that will easily tear light clothes here.
But time bids me stop. My kindest regards to any inquiring. Remember me kindly
to your parents and eastern friends. The Lord bless thee.
-- James
A week later, James rushed off another letter to Augusta in the hopes that it
would be received before her brother James, and his brother Henry, embarked for
Kansas Territory. Although addressed to
Augusta, most of the letter is written as if intended for James.
Tecumseh, [Kansas Territory] -- 25 miles above Lawrence
February 26, 1855
My
Dear Augusta,
I
did not receive your very welcome favor of January 20th until Saturday last
after I had started on my circuit to be gone for a week. But as [your brother]
James expected to receive answers to some questions he has presented, I embrace
the very first opportunity to answer them and also to tell him some things that
will be of service to him. But I am afraid that he will be far on his way before
this reaches there -- it takes so long for letters to go. Two that you say you
have sent me have not come as yet; viz. the one Christmas and that very long one
just prior to the one in which James' letter was enclosed.
[James]
asks if claims can be obtained near mine. There are prairie claims not far off
that could be obtained today if he were here, but no one knows what a day may
bring forth. People are continually coming in and going about getting the best
claims and, as such, a tide of emigration is coming in the spring.
I fear that unless he is early among them, the chances will be slim.
However, after he comes, I will do the best I can. It will do no good for me to
try to hold a claim for him for the first man that comes along may take it as no
one is allowed to hold but one claim. I have my eye on some claims that will be
desirable if he is in time with [my brother] Henry to get them.
He
asks if he could get a team here and, "How much would it cost?" Good
oxen can be purchased in Missouri for from $50 to $80 per yoke. It might be
best, should an opportunity present itself, to purchase a team before coming up
into the territory after arriving at the mouth of the Kansas river -- or at
Alton, Illinois -- and come across Missouri and up into the territory by land,
but this would be tedious. Good working cattle can be bought up here but they
will cost higher. They use both
horses and cattle in breaking up the soil. It takes about three yoke to do the
first ploughing after which a good stout horse or yoke of cattle will easily do
it. We can get corn here to plant, but wheat is somewhat scarce. Fish are plenty
in the streams. One was caught not long ago weighing over 60 pounds.
It
is not near as cold in winter as there. It may be warmer in summer in some
places but out on the rolling prairies, you will almost always have a good fresh
breeze. Currant cuttings might be easily brought by putting a small potato on
the end and putting them in a small box with moist sawdust or moss -- very short
ones will do. We have plenty of water in the Wakarusa within a few rods of my
cabin. It is very good this winter and along its banks are many springs that
will furnish us good water in summer. I do not know about wild berries.
Excellent grapes grow in abundance -- also the strawberry. I do not remember
seeing any blackberry or whortleberries. The red plum is abundant and also the
artichokes by the acre. Hogs get fat on them without other food. The timber is
somewhat different from that there and much more scarce. We have no pine, but
black walnut trees three feet in diameter -- also plenty of sycamore,
cottonwood, oak, hickory, ash, and poplar.
I
am glad they are fitting you out with garden seed -- the more the better. Don't
forget the watermelon, squash, muskmelon, radish, carrot, beet, onion, turnip,
rutabaga, cabbage, lettuce, peppergrass, red pepper, peas, beans, parsnip,
sunflower, broom corn, and just as many others as you choose. And don't forget
any of the garden or house flowers. If you can put a pinnae root in the box with
the currant, do it. And also some choice grape cuttings.
It
may be better for you to cross at the [Niagara] Falls and come the Canada route
through central Michigan owing to the [out]break at Erie and the continual
difficulties there. And when you get through to St. Louis, if you will apply to
Mr. B. Slater, you will procure a ticket much cheaper up the long crooked
Missouri to the mouth of the Kansas. Almost anyone will [be able to] tell you
where his office is. If they are not ready to start [upriver], better go aboard
the boat, have your name entered and choose your berth which you can do after
procuring a ticket from him after you go aboard the boat. They are bound to
board you free of all charge even if they do not start for a week. But I think
the demand [for passage] will be such that a boat will leave St. Louis daily.
The papers advertised a boat to start last week but, owing to the very cold
weather for a few days back, the river has again closed. But it will doubtless
be free and teem with life soon.
You
will see that I have written this mostly to James and hope it may reach him
before he starts. I am glad he is coming but you will miss him from your own
scarcely broken circle...
But it is now near midnight. I have written this after
preaching to an attentive congregation and after visiting until late with the
very kind family with whom I am stopping. With your letter came two from
Indianapolis and one from my ever Dear Brother [Samuel T.] Cooper, now stationed
at Richmond, Indiana. They have been having quite a revival in my little church
at Indianapolis -- have had fifty accessions and are in a prosperous condition.
It was crowded at the dedication and Prof. Hoss of the Blind Asylum writes me
that Governor Wright will probably join there. The Sabbath School this winter
numbers over a hundred. The Lord bless and prosper them. It really tends to
encourage me in my work. Good night dear Augusta.
-- Your James.
About the middle of March, 1855, Henry Griffing and his wife, Nancy [Orcutt]
Griffing left their home on the side of Catlin Hill in Tioga, New York and, with
their three small children [Emma, Velma, and John S.], started for Kansas
Territory. Henry Griffing was 45 years
old at the time, thirteen years older than his brother James.
Nancy, his wife of four years, was thirty-four years old.
They were accompanied on the journey by James Jeremiah Goodrich, then 21
years old, who was the younger brother of Augusta Goodrich.
The
following letter was written from James Goodrich to Augusta while in enroute.
St.
Louis [Missouri]
Saturday, March 17, 1855
Dear
Sister [Augusta],
We
started from Chicago at 9 o'clock and arrived at Alton [Illinois] at 10 p.m.
[From there, we] took the boat for St. Louis -- arrived one in the morning. We
went to the Verginia Hotel, a large house. [9] There was a man on the [railroad]
cars at Owego [New York] -- he said he was going to Kansas. We kept company with
him. He was from Penn[sylvania] and there is two more men on it from
Philadelphia -- an carpenter, the other is from Adrian, Missouri. He is a farmer
and we think of taking a claim together. He is a smart young man. We passed
through some beautiful prairie country as level as a floor and as far as the eye
could reach but there was timber for miles around. I liked Illinois better than
Michigan and that not very well. I think Kansas will be the place.
Nancy
[Griffing] was all blab on the cars. She told everyone within hearing [distance]
that they was bount for Kansas and that I was her boy which I didn't like verry
well. Some of the passengers made fun of her and some said if there was a
hundred just like her there would not be any slavery in Kansas. Henry [Griffing]
& his family are all well. My cold has left me and am enjoying myself verry
well. Nancy liked to get stuck in the mud in Alton last night. When we got off
the cars there, we took a sort of cart for the steamboat and of all the muddiest
places I never want to see. The mud was about 1 foot deep and no side walks
ither. I had one of the children in my arms & Henry one & one of the men
the other. Nancie says she will not go again. [10]
On Wednesday,
March 21, 1855, it is recorded that the Rev. Abraham Still, Presiding Elder, and
Rev. James Griffing "completed the organization of the Methodist Church,
the first in Topeka, with about a dozen members enrolled.
James S. Griffing was named pastor in charge, and H. H. Wentworth,
Sunday-school superintendent." On
the same day, Augusta Goodrich wrote the following letter to James.
Owego
[New York]
March 21, 1855
Dear
James,
Yours
of March 7th mailed at Kansas [City], MO., reached me Monday afternoon so it was
not quite two weeks coming. But you commenced it Feb. 26th -- more than a week
before it was mailed. I was sorry we did not receive it a week before as we
could have sent some other seeds. But I think you will both find enough [seeds]
to plant [rolled up] in the papers [I sent with my brother James]. We heard last
evening from [my brother] James who wrote a few lines and sent from Chicago. We
were much relieved and greatly gratified to hear that they had gone there for
safety -- but poor Nancy -- I know she is by this time tired, tired and perhaps
almost wishing herself back on the hill again. It is a great task to go so far
with three little children. We hope to hear from him again this week from St.
Louis and to hear of their safe arrival at the boat. I do hope they will all
like the country and be happy there. They seemed in pretty good spirits when they started. They
will tell you how many [of our friends and neighbors] went to the depot to see
them start and how they waited till they were nearly tired out. (That was the
only time the cars were behind time in some time -- not once since.) We have
written to [my brother] James and directed to your care and shall send another
with this and a paper. And if you get the papers, [we will try] to send [a
newspaper] to you and James every week -- either an Owego paper, the Christian
Advocate & Journal, or the New York papers so that you can exchange. While I
was in Newfield, [New York] Ma sent you two or three papers. Have you received
them? I am sorry you have not received that long letter I sent you for it was
quite a curiosity -- written on paper ruled as fine again as I am now writing
and brim full. But I cannot now tell what was in it but rather think Mr. John
Platt's & Mr. Charles Pumpelly's and Mr. Prentice's deaths were in it. I
think it somewhat remarkable that throughout all our correspondence, so few
letters have been lost. Few on either side but have been received.
Our
people are always anxious to have your letters come and begin to tease me to
read them [aloud] before I have half finished myself. I hope you will find time
to write often and if [my brother] James is near you, have him write often too.
I hope they can settle near you. It will be so pleasant for them and you. I know
you will advise [my brother] James what to do and what to get. We feel so much
better satisfied than if he was going anywhere else.
Aunt
Lucy [Goodrich Fiddis] is here now and has been quite sick since Sunday. But she
is better today and able to sit up some. The rest of us have colds. Mary and
Anna have gone to Ithaca & Newfield on a visit for a week or two. Aunt Lucy
is going to rent a house in the village and not go back to Connecticut.
Monday
evening, March 26th. Malvina [Griffing,
wife of your brother Samuel] has just been here and told us the sad news of your
brother John's death. It was very sudden to them and to all. Young Mr. Mersereau
came this morning to tell your Mother and all. He had been sick with fever and
ague and then rheumatism, but was better on Monday last and was [working] in the
store. But he [grew] worse on Tuesday and had a physician. Inflammation set in
and he lived not quite a week -- dying yesterday [March 25, 1855] at 4 o'clock
in the afternoon. Mr. Mersereau said he had watched with him several times and
that he told him several days ago that he thought he should not live. He spoke
at ten yesterday morning but was not conscious after that. His sufferings were
very great. Your mother and [brother] Ossy will start [for Union Springs, New
York] in the morning and [your brother-in-law, Reverend] Mr. Brooks perhaps will
go [with them]. The funeral will be attended on Wednesday afternoon. I know this
will be very unexpected and very sad news for you and [your brother] Henry. I
know it will be hard, but you have a Friend to whom you can go at all times and
He will not turn a deaf ear in time of trouble.
I
had this partly written and intended to send it in a day or two but thought I
would finish it tonight after Malvina came. Some of them will write 'ere long
and tell all the particulars. I
have written what Malvina has told me. Good night and may God be with you and
comfort you is the prayer of your,
-- Augusta.
[1]
The reason that James Griffing did not meet Rev. Goode is explained in his
letter to Augusta on February 19, 1855.
[2]
It is likely that the "Inn" where Rev. Goode and Rev. Griffing
stayed was "McGee's Inn," a place inhabited by highwaymen and
"in bad repute" on the Santa Fe Trail at 110 Creek.
Years later, James' daughter would remember her father saying that the
southern sympathizers at McGee's Inn challenged him by trying to have him
say the word "cow." They knew that if he pronounced it "caeow,"
that he must be a Yankee. She said that he chatted with them pleasantly,
however, and no trouble ensued.
[3]
"The first Methodist class in Kansas was organized at Brownsville,
later changed to Auburn, in the home of Mrs. Gault, in the fall of 1854.
The Rev. James S. Griffing, who founded the class, was appointed to
the Wakarusa Mission for Indians in 1854 by the Missouri Conference.
The first meeting was held under a tree in front of the home of John
W. Brown... In April, 1855, a Sunday School was organized with 10 pupils.
Samuel Cavender was elected the first Superintendent."
Source: Kansas City Star, November 13, 1929.
[4]
James later wrote that "the first class organized in [Shawnee County]
was at the old Catholic Mission once called Brownsville, now Auburn, with
W.F. Johnson leader. The members were
Sister Johnson, Elizabeth Brown, Rebecca Pickett, Sister Cavender and one or
two others." Source: The Kansas Methodist, May 18, 1822.
[5]
"'Noticing a shanty in the distance, we rode up to it, told our
business, were kindly welcomed, and invited to preach.'
Thus did a circuit-riding Methodist preacher recall his approach to
Topeka's first building, 'Squatter's Hotel' in February, 1855.
The sermon preached that night to a congregation of 21, 'embracing
the entire city,' was the start of Methodism in the Kansas capitol.
The preacher, James S. Griffing, 'left an appointment for four weeks
later' and promised to return. It
is the day of his return, March 21, 1855, that is being celebrated during
the next two weeks by the 3100 members of the First Methodist Church. On that day, 100 years ago, the Rev. Mr. Griffing organized a class
of about a dozen members. It was the
beginning of the city's first Methodist Church, one which was to grow to its
present stature as a leading church of its denomination.
Six other Topeka Methodist Churches also are the direct offshoot of
that circuit rider's dedication -- the North Topeka charge first listed in
1870 and which became Kansas Avenue Methodist; East Topeka, known as Quincy
and Parkdale in 1881; Lowman Methodist; Trinity Methodist, first called
Walnut Grove; Euclid Methodist; Oakland Methodist, called Martins Hill; and
Highland Park Methodist Church, the last of the six, organized in
1916." Source: Methodism Arrived Here 100 Years Ago, The Topeka
Daily Capitol, Sunday, March 20, 1955.
[6]
"...early in 1855, two Methodist clergymen, the Revs. William H. Goode
and James S. Griffing rode into what became Shawnee County from the south.
They stopped at 110 Mile Creek, now an abandoned site in Osage
County, where the two spent the night in the home of a good "border
ruffian"... The following day the ministers left for the Wakarusa...and
by afternoon reached Brownsville. There, wrote Goode, 'we found friends, had an appointment
circulated, and I endeavored to preach the word to a few 'sheep in the
wilderness''. Next day, they entered
the Pottawatomie Reserve and headed for Topeka. While in that new settlement, Goode spoke to 'willing hearers' who
'enlivened the exercises by excellent singing from a well-trained choir.'
Goode, and supposedly Griffing too, spent the night [February 7,
1855] in Topeka's lone house where he was 'honored with a superior position'
in the log cabin -- an upper bunk. In
the morning [February 8, 1855] the two gentlemen, before getting on their
way, breakfasted on corn meal mush, or hasty pudding, and then journeyed
straight east." Source: Douglas W. Wallace and Roy D. Bird, Witness of the Times; A
History of Shawnee County, p. 141.
[7]
"The Tecumseh class was organized in the home of Francis Grassmuck, a
log cabin southeast of Tecumseh on the farm where Clarence Melton now lives.
The other charter members were Marinda Jordan (now M. K. Dolman), the
Rev. Charles Jordan, Keziah Jordan, Mr. and Mrs. F. Grassmuck, Mr. and Mrs.
Osborne Naylor, Jane Stevenson, and Mr. and Mrs. William Jordan."
Source: Topeka Capitol, October 6, 1929, "Diamond Jubilee for Tecumseh
M. E. Church."
[8]
"The second [Quarterly Meeting for the Wakarusa Mission] was held
February 10th and 11th, at the Kannaday & Fry boarding-house, commonly
called the 'St. Nicholas House,' which stood about where the old Vermont
School has stood since... The Quarterly [Meeting] involved, besides the
business session, a public service Saturday evening and one at 11 a.m. on
Sunday." Source: Mary Patterson Clarke,
History
of the First Methodist Episcopal Church of Lawrence, Kansas, p. 8.
[9]
[10]
James Goodrich's description of Alton, Illinois, is typical of most accounts
from the period. Shalor W. Eldridge
provided the following account of his journey to Kansas City in January,
1855. "Alton, Illinois, was the
extreme western terminus of railroad travel at that time. The traveler, if westward bound, was transferred at this point to a
boat for St. Louis; thence he took passage back again and up the Missouri
River. There were no cut-offs or
short lines of travel, but little competition to expedite travel, and no
consolidation of roads to furnish through trains on fast time.
The passenger was dumped off at the end of each separate road to
worry over his baggage and be held up by hackmen and hotel keepers, often
missing trains and failing to make connections."
[11]
The "Australia" was a side-wheeler weighing 289 tons.
It was built in Brownsville, Pennsylvania, in 1853.
Its first home port was Pittsburgh. It
was destroyed in a fire at the wharf in St. Louis on April 1, 1859. Another
source says it was destroyed in late Feb, 1856, when it was torn from the dock
at St. Louis and swept downstream in an ice flow during the Great Ice Gorge at
St. Louis.
