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Biography of Rev. James S. Griffing

Written by Mrs. Mary L. [Griffing] Fry, 1929

[When my father came to Kansas Territory, he] went on as far as Topeka and homesteaded a claim east of Topeka, which is now known as the Griffing Dairy Farm. He put up a small one roomed cabin close to Mr. Stephenson’s cabin, so he would have near neighbors. He was what was known as a circuit rider. He preached in Topeka once in four weeks and the other three Sabbaths of the month he rode his pony 15 or 20 miles to other appointments where he would preach to some settlers in a log cabin. The settlers would come from miles around to hear the gospel preached. In the late summer of 1855, he went back to [his hometown of] Owego, New York, and married his lifelong neighbor and sweetheart, J. Augusta Goodrich, on September 13, 1855, and they came out to Kansas.

Mother had been educated at a ladies seminary in Hartford, Connecticut and had been living in that city [off and on] for the last ten years [prior to her marriage]. Coming out to Kansas soon changed her peaches and cream complexion to a coppery yellow. The first year, as Father had no farm implements to cultivate the ground, he took his axe and chopped up the ground and put three grains of corn in each hill. He raised a little corn and a little garden to help eke out a living. Mother would have to stay in the one-room cabin from Saturday until Monday, when Father would be off on the circuit. They owned a few hens, and as they were very precious, Father built the henhouse up against the side of the cabin. One night when Mother was all alone, she heard a commotion among the chickens. She did not have a lantern, and as the wind blew the candle out, she went out in the dark and felt along the chicken’s roost until she felt fur. She took the animal by the tail and carried it out to the woodpile and chopped it all to pieces. The next day a neighbor rode into the yard and exclaimed, “Why Mrs. Griffing, you killed a pole cat, did you?” Mother remarked, “Oh, was that a pole cat? I wondered what it was.”

The water had to be carried from a spring to the house. My two older brothers and myself were born on the farm. As the family grew larger, Father added more rooms to the cabin. After a few years we owned two horses and a cow and as the years went by, we had fruit from the orchard. When I was a baby, Father was sent to Lincoln and Seneca. He started Sunday Schools and had evening meetings. My sister [Sarah] was born at Lincoln, Kansas, dying at three and a half years with typhoid fever.

While living at Lincoln, every man between the ages of 18 and 60 was mustered out to go to Fort Leavenworth, to take charge there, so the soldiers could go down to Kansas City to guard the frontier of Kansas, as Price and his men were burning towns and destroying property. Quite a number of men had to go from Topeka too, and fight in battles near Kansas City. Quite a number were taken prisoners, among them were Mr. Naylor, Rollin Naylor’s father. The prisoners had to give up their overcoats and wade through icy water and sleep on the cold ground. Mr. Naylor took a severe cold, which cost him his life and left Mrs. Naylor and her little children to struggle for a living. Father was also sent out west to help drive the Indians away who were killing men, women and children, and burning their homes. He also went to Lawrence to help quell Quantrell’s raid [in August 1863].

During the early days the settlers had chills and ague and had to doctor with their home remedies as the doctors were too far away. While living at Lincoln, Father received $425 from his circuit by counting every cabbage head and ham and patchwork quilt at a large price – sometimes all [of his] salary was [taken in the form of] donations as money was so scarce. No one had any, but were willing to divide with the stranger within the gates.

The first winter my parents were on the farm in 1855, there was a big snowstorm and the snow sifted through the cracks and crannies of the cabin. Father was very sick and could not get warm. Mother would stuff the little stove just as full of wood as it would hold, but it did not seem to warm up the room. Mother had my father lie on a feather bed and then covered him with another feather bed and all the bedclothes she had, but still he shivered. Mr. Naylor came over to see how father was, and they took Father, featherbeds and all, and put him to bed in front of the great big fireplace at Mr. Naylor’s. Mother said she could not keep the tears back for he was so grateful for the warmth from the huge log fire. They kept him in their house until he was well and able to go home.