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My line of march for the distant wildsWoodstock
[Illinois] My
Dearest Augusta, It is strange what changes a few fleeting days may make in one's purposes and plans. Today we are full in expectation of shortly greeting those from whom we have been so long separated, tomorrow we may be taking up our line of march as pioneers to the very limits of civilized life. Today with friends, acquaintances, and a home made sacred by the most sacred and pleasant reminiscences, tomorrow mingling among strangers. I wonder where you can be today? You can hardly imagine how very pleasantly situated I am at the hour at my dear cousin Amanda Dwight's [1] home. And I knew not when I could steal a more favorable moment than this to speak with you. Oh, there are so many things I wish to tell you, so much advice I would like to ask of you, so many things that I would like your kind counsel -- and then such a limited time to ask it that I hardly know what to say first. How I wish I could only spend a few days with you before starting for Nebraska, but this I cannot do as one week from today I expect to take up the line of march from Indianapolis to my home in the far, far West. I [will have] the very best of company [traveling] out but [Brother Goode and I] shall be widely separated in the territories. I am making no other calculations than to undergo a very great many inconveniences for a time. My destination will be at a settlement on the Missouri River known as Nebraska City, a few miles below Council Bluffs -- which place within five years will doubtless number several thousand inhabitants. I expect to superintend the building of a church there, to organize Sabbath Schools, and start new preaching places where a settlement starts about in the country. I spoke to Brother Goode about my calculations to get married soon. He said that it would only tend to make it far more pleasant for me. I know this would be the case but then there are other considerations. It would be asking far too much of you to go there now. Yet, a kind Providence sparing my life, I allow a bright future to present itself. I yet hope in Nebraska not only to have a pleasant home but to have it surrounded with many old acquaintances. I came up here to Woodstock with the expectation of selling my little farm here in order that I might make an expenditure of its worth in Nebraska. But when I came to go down with Cousin George [Griffing] to gather the crops, I liked it so well that I have about come to the conclusion not to sell it yet. The oats turned out this year about fifty bushel to the acre, the wheat about twenty-five, and the corn over fifty. The land has doubled in price. Cousin [George] said he could have sold it several times this summer at ten dollars per acre or $800. The man living on the farm adjoining mine values his land at 20 dollars per acre but the land is no better -- only the place is better fenced. The railroad is not yet completed to this place but will tend still more to enhance the value of land. I suppose my better way will be to let it remain [unsold] and, if I wish to make any purchases in Nebraska, to loan the money. My salary will necessarily be small, only enough to make a comfortable living. And I should care [for no more money except that] I believe it is a duty we owe ourselves and the church, where we can do it without any interference with our calling, to provide for future want as we know not in temporal as well as spiritual matters what a day may bring forth. I believe the Lord only truly takes care of those who make some provisions to take care of themselves. Now what do you think I had better do about selling my place here [in Woodstock]? When do you think we had better fix upon to be married? And how would be our better way to manage? When shall you again be home [in Owego] and how have you enjoyed your visit thus far in Connecticut? And what does Mother think about my going to Nebraska? I wrote her quite a long letter about it but as no answer came, I could only conclude that silence gave consent. Yet I wish I knew just how she felt about it. So far as being company or serviceable to her, I felt I could be just as much so in Nebraska as at Indianapolis. I hope, at all events, to see her before a great while face to face. I have her image in my vest pocket which is but the shadow. I have her numerous motherly deeds locked up in precious memory which can never be obliterated so long as life or health in being last or immortality endures. I can hardly feel as if I had been a true son to so kind a mother yet the hand of Providence has seemed to be marking out all my path and I cannot help but feel as if all had been for the best. Yet I know that in my heart I feel as if it would be a great privilege to be with her the few days that may be allotted to us to smooth her pathway along through life just as much as possible. Providence seems to be ordering somewhat differently. I can but submissively bow and say, "The Lord's will be done, not my own." Your friends here are usually well. Miss Drew has not been heard from in some time. My relatives are also well. I leave in the morning for Indianapolis and shall probably take this letter to Chicago to mail it as it will probably reach you sooner. I have no more time at present. Please pardon brevity. We expect on our route West to go through Springfield, Illinois, if Brother Goode does not change his route. At all events, you may venture to answer this there if you please. If we do not go there, I will have it forwarded to me. I sent some books to [your brother] Ralph just before I left Indianapolis by American Express. Also, a letter. But whether they will be the ones he will want, I could not tell. If he can make them serviceable, he is perfectly welcome to them. I hope he may. Otherwise, the cost of transportation will lead him to think he has made a poor bargain after all. Some of them were books I never intended bringing West at all but our people in packing my trunk did not know which ones to send. When
will you be at home? What news from Owego [have you heard]? Please send all. If
I get time, I may drop you a line before leaving Indianapolis. Don't forget to
mention just how your health is. Tell what effect this fine cool weather is
having upon it. I would like to tell you about my journey here -- what old
acquaintances I met -- about my prairie hunt -- but have no time. Say adieu. The
Lord greatly bless you my dear beloved Augusta.
Indianapolis
[Indiana] My
Beloved [Augusta] Shall this be the very last line or scrawl with which I shall trouble you from my studio at my city home and, if it is, before this reaches you I shall be on my line of march for the distant wilds on the banks of the Missouri. Already the people here have endeared themselves to me in very many ways and it will seem almost like breaking away from home and all its blessed appreciations. And as the hour of parting approaches, I cannot avoid feeling a continual sadness. It makes me sad to think of the changes that must so soon take place among them. Like myself, a good many others are leaving. Sad to think that I can never again see a great many of my beloved charge, especially my Sabbath School, until I meet them where there is no more charge. Sad to be obliged again to leave old familiar friends and make me a home among strangers -- especially those whose habits are quite different from any to which I may have been accustomed. Sad, dearest Augusta, to be removed still farther from yourself with the prospect of having that separation much longer than I desired. Especially sad when your kind letter today expressed such a willingness to be with me, to cheer me up in my toils. You ask whether there will be brother ministers with me. I suppose there may be other persuasions, but none very near that I am aware of acting as a co-laborer. Yet if you could be with me dearest Augusta, to counsel and aid in my work, I believe that I should like it much better than any minister they could send me. And with your consent, I will aim to effect this at the very earliest opportunity. I do believe that I shall like Nebraska, notwithstanding all the sacrifices -- owing to the scarcity of crops. I already learn that the Indians are committing depredations upon the scanty plantations of the squatters which probably may result in serious difficulty before summer and crops come again. And I sometimes think that the encroachments of our people, repeated and grievous, upon the claims and rights of the red man may soon seem to be beyond all endurance and the impatient spirit will vent itself in unheard of cruelties. Or are they destined to melt away noiselessly before the consuming avarice of the white man? I can hardly think that the most interesting items in Indian history are yet given to the world. I hope, however, that 'ere long, the subduing influence of our beloved Christianity will be witnessed in all their actions. I had a very pleasant visit at Woodstock [Illinois]. Found the people well. The Presbyterians are erecting a very large brick building in the village, larger than any in Owego [New York]. The village is increasing gradually and is one of the most healthy places in the West. I did not sell my lot there but expect I may at the first good opportunity. I found it more valuable than I expected and, were I not going where its worth may be invested to far greater advantage, I should by no means sell as the land is increasing [in value] very fast. It was not convenient for me to attend the Conference as I wished to go to Woodstock [Illinois] and I could have no other time only during its session. Should you have access to either the Zion's Herald, Christian Advocate and Journal, or Northern Christian Advocate, you will probably notice the stations of the ministers of the North Indiana Conference in about the next number. (Remember its name as there are four in the State.) Brother [Samuel] Cooper goes to Richmond, Brother Barnes comes to Robert's Chapel, Brother Holman is appointed to the Mission Charge. Brother [John] Hull yet retains the Presiding Eldership. They have transferred me to the Missouri Conference, the nearest one to my field of labor. My friend Sage is yet laboring out here in the country. During my absence to Woodstock [Illinois], I learned that he was in my room sick three or four days with the ague. He left town again the day before I came [back] so that I may not see him again before I leave. Yesterday the County Fair was held in the suburbs of the city. I did not attend and cannot speak of it comparatively with ours [of Tioga, New York]. Those that did attend speak of it as a very slim affair. The principal attraction was the elegant horsemanship of the ladies in competition for prizes. County fairs as well as State Fairs do well enough for a time, but soon the excitement dies owing to the fact that everyone does not get the prize. And as "every crow always thinks its own young the whitest," of course if the prize is not awarded, there is great partiality used, and the prize is withheld them because they are poor, or could not dress as well, &c., and then the fair is cried down as a great humbug. In their selfishness, they all seem to forget the great leading object of the fair and consequently lose all interest. The State Fair meets next month at Madison. Should I remain here, I would like to go down. I
find that I must close owing to an engagement. I hardly know where to tell you
to write me in answer to this. I wrote you a line from Woodstock to be answered
at Springfield, Illinois. If you please, you may answer this letter by directing
to St. Joseph, Missouri. I do not remember the county. My health is quite good.
If I find time along the road, I will drop you an occasional line. Adieu for the
present. The blessing of the Lord ever be with you is the prayer of your absent, Click on Image for Enlargement
Pages
1 through 4 of James Griffing's Letter
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