I am writing this in the barn by candlelight as I am pushed out of my own home and my own husband helped. I am sleeping in the hay with my babies. Where James is sleeping I don’t know and I don’t care.
Aunt Martha welcomed us with open arms. So did Betsy and Clovis. I had not cried a tear until I saw them and now I cannot stop.
It was a long ride here by farm wagon from the homestead. Not in miles. The children fretted and kept asking how long it would take to get to Galena. James was short-tempered. If it’s like this for two days travel, what does he think it will be like on a two-thousand mile journey through Indian infested wilderness?
He said—You will see I am right when we get to Oregon, Mary Kathryn.
I did not answer or even look at him.
I hoped in vain that by the time we got here, he would change his mind. I hoped he would see I am right and he would turn this wagon around and go back and fight for what belongs to us.
He didn’t change his mind about nothing. He’s dug in his heels deep as Papa ever did. He went right down to the market place and sold our wagon and used part of the money to buy passage on a steamboat. He says we’re going down the Mississippi the end of this week and getting off at Independence Landing.
I said—Good bye, James Farr. It was nice knowing you.
He said—You are going with me if I have to hog-tie and carry you! I told him he would have to do just that. So he went out and got so drunk Clovis had to fetch him home. Poor old Clovis had to carry James home slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain. I told Clovis he could dump James in the potato cellar and leave him there until he grows eyes and rots. He is not welcome in my bed.
I reckon that is what Clovis did with him.
I can barely see this page for the tears. How is it possible to hate a man I love so much?
Aunt Martha says God’s hand is in this. If that is so, then I have a bone to pick with God. Not that he will listen. Not that he ever did.
Aunt Martha and I sat all day today talking and crying. I asked her if I and my children could stay and live with her when James goes to Oregon. She said no. She said she cannot come between a man and his wife. She said God joined us together and she will not help me split the sheets. So I am stuck with James Addison Farr and his dreams of Oregon.
I should have married Thomas Atwood Houghton.
Aunt Martha bought me a trunk. James is outfitting us in Independence. So for now, all I have is a medicine box with Quinine, bluemass, opium, laudanum, whiskey, hartshorn for snakebites and citric acid to treat scurvy, books, slates, chalk, and ink aplenty. I do not want my children growing up ignorant like their father. The ladies from the quilting circle packed pieces of fabric in every color and pattern imaginable so I can make my own quilt someday. I have packed stout linen thread, large needles, beeswax, buttons, paper of pins and 2 thimbles and packed in a pretty candy box Thomas gave me a long time ago.
If I had married Thomas I would not be going to Oregon.
Pack three sets
1 linsey-woolsey dress
1 wool dress
unmentionables
4 pairs of woolen socks
2 pairs of walking shoes
1 good shawl
1 bonnet
comb, brush and 2 toothbrushes
Pack two sets
2 flannel overshirts
2 woolen undershirts
2 pairs thick cotton drawers
4 pairs of woolen socks
4 color handkerchiefs
2 pairs of walking shoes
1 pair of boots
1 gutta percha poncho
1 coat
comb, brush, 2 toothbrushes each
frying pan
kettle
coffee pot
pie tin
butter churn
2 saws
2 shovels
2 axes
3 belt knives
1 whetstone
1 rifle
1 pistol
ammunition
James says he has the money to buy the rest of what we need when we get to Independence. I think it would be cheaper to buy supplies here, but he said it would cost too dear to freight it down the river. So we will go with what little we have, which is not much.
Aunt Martha offered money to James, but he would have none of it. I was not so proud.
I said Good Bye to Aunt Martha this morning. It near broke my heart. It is breaking still as I sit on this miserable shallow draft steamboat taking me down the Mississippi away from her and Betsy and Clovis and my home. Aunt Martha kissed me and took off her cross necklace and put it on me. It is the pretty one with amethyst stones I admired when I first come to Galena after my father cast me out. She has worn it every day of her life since her papa give it to her on her fourteenth birthday. She said—I want you to have it in memory of me. Let it remind you I am praying for you every day. She said—God is with you, Mary Kathryn Farr, and don’t you ever forget it.
I was not comforted.
I will never see them again. She says I will, but she means heaven and I am not going there. I am not going anywhere God is.
I got God and James Addison Farr to blame for all this heartache.
Joshua asked me today why I will not speak to Papa. I said it was nothing for him to worry his mind over, but he is worried all the same. I said I was busy making sure Beth and Hank and the twins do not fall overboard into the river. But he said that is not so because Papa has Matthew and Hank with him and Deborah was asleep and Beth is too scared of water to get close to the edge of the boat.
He said—You will see Papa is right when we get to Oregon. I told him if I heard those words again, his papa will find himself in the muddy Mississippi. And he can’t swim!
We got off the boat at Independence Landing two days ago. It has been cloudy and cold. James found a holding place for our possessions until we have a wagon to store them. It is a good thing it is not raining because we are camped without so much as a tent over our heads.
Independence is the wildest place I have ever seen. It is full of people from every walk of life, most I would not want to venture down. I have never seen so many people. Everyone is buying and selling something. Everyone is in a hurry to get ready to go to Oregon or California or Santa Fe.
It is dusk and I can still hear hammers pounding as wagons are being built and oxen bellowing and horses neighing. It is impossible to get a wink of sleep in this jumping off place.
James left me with the children so he can go walking around the town square and—get a feel for what is happening—as he put it. I am getting feeling enough from sitting by and watching. Most people hereabouts are as crazy as he is. The men at least. I have not seen a happy woman since we landed.
James talked all day to men camped near us with their wives and children about whether it is wise to buy oxen or mules. He came back and laid out all he had learned and then said—What do you think, Mary Kathryn?
He would not want to know what I think.
He said—You gotta talk to me sometime.
Not in this lifetime I don’t.
James bought 4 teams of oxen today at $25 an ox! They are good sturdy animals and gentle, but not worth that much. He should have bargained harder. James said he will send me next time. He said if things get bad on the trail, we can eat them. I would like to know how he thinks he could do that with Beth taking these beasts of burden to her heart already.
I met Nellie Doane today. She and her husband Wells are camped near us. She was washing clothes in the creek same time I was. I am not the only one weeping about going to Oregon. We cried together and laughed some too. We both had some fine ideas about what to do with our husbands. She said she supposed we would have to make the best of what comes. She has three children all eager to go westering. Joshua and her son Harlan are already fast friends.
Other people are gathering near us. Virgil Boon for one. He is a cooper from Pennsylvania and up in years. He is at least forty if he is a day. There
is also Judge Skinner and his wife. He is older still. Forty-three, he said. He figures they will need Law and Order in Oregon. His wife is not friendly so I do not know her name. Ruckel Buckeye is from Kentucky and only fifteen. I asked him what his mother thinks about him going off to Oregon by himself and he said she told him to go and make a better life for himself out west. I cannot imagine a mother telling her son to leave her knowing she will never see him again. She must be a hard woman.
It has been raining near every day. Our clothes are as damp as my spirits. I must trek through mud to get to the mercantile. James said he needs me to do an accounting or we will not have money enough to make the journey.
He said—You’re going to have to help me unless you want to live in this wild place for the rest of your days, Mary Kathryn. He cant write or read and there are men in this town that skin you for the pure pleasure of it. He said we have $854.22 to our names and it took him all the years we worked the homestead to save that. Aunt Martha gave me $120 that I have hidden in the trunk for safe keeping and Dire Straits. I did not tell him about it.
James brought Mister Kavanaugh to our campfire today. I saw this man two days ago in the mercantile. Or rather he saw me. He was standing at the counter and buying powder, lead, and shot when I come in with the children. He is a big man and hard to miss. He looks wild as an Indian in his buckskins. His hair is long and dark and held back by a piece of rawhide. He was carrying a Sharp’s buffalo rifle and had bluer eyes than I have ever seen before and staring right at me from the minute I walked in the door.
Joshua wanted to talk to him but I told him to stay put by me and watch that Hank and Beth did not stray. I turned my back for one minute and next thing I knew Joshua took Hank and Beth right up to him. I should have been paying better attention, but I had the twins and was bargaining with MacDonald who is a thief and must be watched. When I turned around again, there was Joshua asking this rough stranger all manner of questions and him looking at me with those blue eyes of his. I shooed the children away from him, apologized, and left quick as I could.
I knew I would see him again. I did not know how or when. I just knew. How James met him I don’t know and will not ask. I offered Mister Kavanaugh supper and he accepted. James did most of the talking while they ate. I did not say anything. I listened and learned Mister Kavanaugh has had commerce with the Kansa, Pawnee, Cheyenne, and Sioux. He lived with the Cheyenne two years. He has great respect for the Indians and not much for those he has seen getting ready to head west. He said most are ill-prepared for what awaits them.
I said—Do you mean us, Mister Kavanaugh?
And he said—Depends.
On what I asked to know. He just looked at me and did not say.
James and Wells and half a dozen other men are meeting with John MacLeod tonight. A contract will be drawn up and signed and fees set for his hire. James said he Highly Recommends Kavanaugh as a scout but doubts the man will agree. Kavanaugh has an affinity for Indians and little use for his own kind.
James said Kavanaugh has agreed to go with us to Oregon. He said John MacLeod was surprised and pleased. He said—Kavanaugh knows this country like the back of his own hand.
All the ladies are Impressed with him. They think he is Very Handsome and Mysterious. The men ply him with constant questions. I wonder sometimes if James and the others are not having second thoughts about this madness of going west.
It is raining again today and making mess of our camp. Last night, the wind blew rain right into the wagon. It is too wet for a cookfire. I wish I was at home at Aunt Martha’s with my children cuddled into that big brass bed.
I asked James what we would do if the children get sick. He says we got Doc Murphy. What if the wagon breaks down? He says we have spare parts and the wheels are made of osage orangewood. What about Indians? He says Kavanaugh knows what to do about Indians. James says I worry too much, and I say he doesn’t worry enough.
We ate cold beans and hard biscuits tonight. I kept thinking about Betsy’s fine cooking and that warm kitchen. I wonder if I will ever know those Comforts again. By the time we get to Oregon, it will most likely be too late to plant Crops. We will all starve by springtime.
I wonder if any of us will be alive in a year.
EXPENDITURES
Concord spring wagon of white oak $85.00
Cotton duck covers 100.00
4 teams of oxen 200.00
Harnesses 25.00
6 barrels of flour 25.00
600 pounds bacon 30.00
50 pounds chipped beef 8.00
50 pounds lard 2.50
100 pounds dried fruit 6.00
50 pounds salt and pepper 3.00
100 pounds coffee 9.00
200 pounds beans 8.00
75 pounds rice 3.75
10 pounds of saleratus 1.00
5 pounds mustard 1.00
150 pounds sugar 7.00
powder, lead, shot 20.00
30 pounds tenting 5.00
matches 1.00
50 pounds candles 3.30
3 pounds castile soap 2.00
100 feet heavy rope 4.00
45 pounds bedding 22.50
Total $572.05
Savings 854.22
-572.05
282.17
Share for captain/scout
MacLeod and Kavanaugh -44.00
Savings 282.17
-44.00
238.17
MEMBERS
John MacLeod Wagon Company to Oregon Territory
Scout—Mister Kavanaugh
James and Mary Kathryn Farr—Illinois / farmer
children: Joshua, Henry, Beth, Matt, and Deborah
Virgil Boon—Pennsylvania / cooper
Judge Skinner and wife Mary—Carolina / lawyer
Reese Murphy—New York / doctor
sister: Susan
Cal Chaffey—Maine / farmer
Mary and Marcus Sweeney—Ohio / blacksmith
Mittie Catlow—Illinois / farmer
son: Calhoun
Franklin and Paralee Sinnott—Missouri / merchant
children: Frank and Patricia
Werner Hoffman—New York / farmer
son: Herbert
Kaiser Vandervert—Massachusetts / tailor
Ernest and Winifred Holtz—New York / wheelwright
children: Ernst, Louisa, Alicia, Gottlieb
Melzena and Arbozena Pratt—Alabama / seamstresses
nigra servant: Homer
Wells and Nellie Doane—Missouri / baker
children: Robert, Harlan, LeRoy
Lot Whimcomby—Massachusetts / clerk
Paul Colvigne—Delaware / teacher
Binger Siddons—Indiana / farmer
Oren and Aphie McKenzie—Virginia / farmer
Dunham and Celia Banks—Connecticut / shoemaker
children: baby Hortense
A. J. Wright—Tennessee / harnessmaker
Wyatt Collins—Vermont / farmer
Cage Baker—Kentucky / farmer
Ruckel Buckeye—Ohio / hunter
Artemesia and Athena Hendershott—Georgia / drayage
brother: Apollo
Stern Janssen—Sweden / sailor
Matthew Odell—Illinois / gunsmith
Less Moore—South Carolina / gambler
Payment rendered in advance to John MacLeod—$800.00
Payment rendered in advance to Bogan Kavanaugh—300.00
The sun has finally come out. We were busy all day repacking to John MacLeod’s instructions. Our flour is now stored in canvas sacks instead of barrels, 100 pounds per sack. Our bacon supply is repacked in boxes, 100 pounds each. We surrounded the bacon with bran. JM says this will prevent the fat from melting and keep the bacon from spoiling.
I am too tired to write more.
It is raining again. We have moved to higher ground. Everyone is Wet and Cold and Agitated. JM says we will not move out until the grass is four inches high. Right now, our stock is feeding on w
hat grass there is which is not much.
No one is happy, not even James who had this fool idea of going to Oregon.
I long for home. I cannot think about Aunt Martha, Betsy and Clovis without crying.
James bought a milk cow for $20. Beth will have charge of it. Joshua will help herd the stock the company has bought from the common fund.
We have been on the trail three days. We left Courthouse Square at sunup May 12. There are twenty-eight wagons in our company and fifty-eight souls counted among them. We crossed the Missouri border and left the United States of America. The only law and order we got now is what we have agreed to among ourselves. We have traveled over muddy roads past a great big blue mound and then crossed Bull Creek. Heading due west, we saw a sign saying The Road to Oregon. We had a hard crossing at the Vermillion. A. J. Wright lost a wheel coming down the steep bank.
Crossing creeks is always trouble. Near the mission the Shawnee Indians helped me while James helped A. J. The children and I had a smooth crossing though my heart was in my throat the whole way.
Franklin Sinnott has two wagons, one for family and supplies and another loaded with goods he intends to sell in Oregon. He is driving it himself and leaving his wife Paralee to drive the other. She is scared of driving and with good reason. She is not much good at it and Very Fragile. When we were at the Wakarusa, she pulled out of line and waited. Franklin yelled at her something fierce, but she would not get back behind and follow him across. She would not budge. He had to come back and drive the wagon across himself. He was so mad, he made her get off and walk. Little Patricia screamed for her mama all the way across the river. Paralee came across in a bull boat with a Shawnee.
We crossed the Kansas and have followed the Little Blue for three days. James is letting Joshua drive the wagon. I am thankful. It is easier on a body to walk.
Someone pushing a wheelbarrow followed us all day yesterday and today. MacLeod said it was probably a Mormon and went out to see. I can see the glow of a campfire in the distance.
Artemesia and Athena Hendershott have asked Kavanaugh to share their supper. They are very nice ladies. Perhaps he will take a liking to one. Apollo would be delighted to see one of his sisters wed.
John MacLeod just returned and told James it is a woman out there. He told her she is a fool and should go back, but she said it is a free country and she can go where she pleases.