As news of the fraudulent territorial elections spread through eastern newspapers, more and more strong-willed anti-slavery advocates considered moving to Kansas Territory. Although many of the early settlers, discouraged by weather, disease, and lack of comfort on the prairie were returning home, still more were urged to come by the letters of James Griffing and the hundreds of others who hung on to the vision of what Kansas could become, rather than what it was.
In the parlor of a Kingston townhouse, across the Susquehanna river from Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, the family of Charles W. Giddings sat in front of the fireplace and read the letter from Mrs. Clarissa [Griffing] Gidding’s younger brother, James. As they talked about settling in the ‘great west’, the spirit of adventure overtook them and they began to make plans. Shortly after, a response was tendered to Uncle Sam for delivery to “Lawrence, Kansas Territory.” It read:
Kingston [Pennsylvania]
May 24, 1855Dear Brother James,
Rev. Charles Woodbury Giddings
Your favor of the 21st of last month was received about two weeks after date. We were all right glad to hear from you and your letter has been read over and over again. I thank you for the information you give about immigrants to Kansas. I think of finding a home somewhere soon in the West or Southwest soon and shall prize highly all the information you can give me about rooms and the great west. It is strongly probable that I shall be out in June or July if it should not be sickly at that time. I intend to stick my stake somewhere when I come and do not design to stay [here] in Wyoming County more than one year more.
The American Settlement Company is not a branch of the Boston Aid Company, but an independent stock company as you can see from the Constitution which I send you. I like its objects and its policy. It proposes to send or induce free men to Kansas to aid in founding a free state by circulating information, [providing] community fare for emigrants and selling stock which is to be redeemed by lots in a proposed city called ‘Council City.’ The Company report [states] that they are [already] in successful operation — [That they] have located, surveyed, and commenced building their city. I would like to know something more about the practiced working of their plan on the spot. The plan looks liberal and feasible on paper but perhaps it will all end in smock when reduced to practice. Its principle object is to induce settlers to Kansas and then to let them go where they please — presuming that the superior advantages of that country will keep them there.
If I should conclude to locate in Kansas, a number of families of the right stamp will go with me and propose to send funds by me to invest for the purpose of making them a home. I should like to know what the prospects are of investing to advantage and when the public lands will come into market. And [please tell me] whether the New Mexico Homestead Bill is a law in Kansas as I see that Kansas and Nebraska are included in the Bill. Will you write me soon on the subject? Our [Methodist] Conference sits on the 20 of June and I should like all the information I can obtain on these matters before we adjourn. What is the prevailing opinion in Kansas as to its becoming a free state?
Our respects to Henry and [his] family. We are all well except for Sarah Amelia who has been sick of the scarlet fever but is now recovering. Clarissa joins in love and so do all the children. Yours fraternally, — Charles W. Giddings
When James received Rev. Giddings’s letter, he quickly turned the letter over and jotted down an outline of what he would say in his return letter:
Speak of the beginning of our Quarterly Meeting — of the attendance upon the regular means of grace — speak of the good order maintained at our meetings — the place of holding [them] at Lawrence. Mention some of the things that tend to allure from duty — viz. Absence from the stated means of grace, away from the constraints of home and friends comparatively among strangers — where the restraints of law are not so rigidly enforced and thrown around those disposed to do wickedly. [Speak of the] wants of the church — the prospects for usefulness. Will Kansas become a free state? — State of health — bad time to come on some accounts — good on others — directions about coming. Call on Brother [Levin B.] Dennis.
In accordance with her weekly ritual, Augusta took a seat on the stoop of her parents farmhouse and began another letter to her “Dearest James.” When her younger brothers, Ralph and Stephen, came in from the barn after their evening chores, they teased her as she hid the letter deep within the folds of her dress.
Owego [New York]
Friday Evening, June 1, 1855Dearest James,
You cannot tell how disappointed I was tonight in not receiving a letter from you. I expected one without fail. Oh dear, how bad one feels to be disappointed — [at least] I do I know. And we look so anxiously for yours and [my brother] James’ letters. We have received none from him in three weeks and your last [was] two weeks ago. Perhaps one will come tomorrow. I do hope so for we are feeling anxious all the time [and] hoping all are well.
Two Kansas papers have come — the two first in May. They came a week ago last Tuesday and we looked for another this week but it has not come. We are all very glad to get them. They will be very acceptable indeed. I am sorry to hear of the cholera there, but hope my loved ones will be kept in safety. Since Shelton’s death [in Minnesota], I feel more anxious about it than ever. I dread more than before. What a dreadful disease it is to cut off one so alive so very suddenly. A man from near Virgil [New York] went West a few weeks ago to live with his sons there and died on the Mississippi with the cholera and [they say] he was buried before he was cold. Does it spread much around Lawrence?
How are Henry’s family and [my brother] James? I am glad you can see them occasionally. I have not heard whether any of [your] family have heard from Henry lately. How does he like it there? And is [his wife] Nancy contented?
We are usually well and we girls — that is, Sarah and myself — have been busy cleaning house and shall be glad when we finish — which will be soon I think. It has been very dry and very windy here this Spring but for several days has seemed to be preparing for rain. And today, we have had a few April showers but not enough to really settle the dust. I hope we shall have a good rain that will do good. The foliage looks refreshed since the showers. Corn and potatoes are beginning to show themselves and a fine rain would make them grow. Have you had rain with you? We read there is a great draught in Texas. What a blessing is rain!
[Your old neighbor] Mr. [Osee] Hall is building a bridge for Mr. Drake across the little creek that leads into the [mill] race nearly opposite Glen Mary and it is intended to have a bridge across the main stream [Owego Creek] at some future time. Just when [that will be,] they can’t tell as the people wish the road from this street to pass directly through Glen Mary yard and Mr. G[ordon] Pumpelly is not willing they should — nor do I blame him. I [know I] would not. But he will give them a road down the hill from the one coming off the hill. [In any event,] it will not benefit us as it would take us so near the depot where our horses don’t like to go. If we go anywhere now, we have to walk as we have no wagon. And [even] if we had, I should be afraid to ride after our driving horse.
They are [busy] drawing lumber to commence building the handsome houses above us on the Glen [Mary] place and a [large] quantity of maples have been set out. Aunt Lucy [Fiddis] is keeping house [in Owego] and keeping boarders. She was over a few days ago [to visit]. Mrs. Totton died about a week ago. She has had poor health a long time. A very handsome monument has been erected on the mountain over the grave of an Indian girl who was killed a few years ago on the railroad. Judge Avery took a great interest in her. ¹
Do you get any papers? We have sent one every week of late. George Stroop is stopping in Hudson with John Searle and writes [that] he can get excellent wages.
Saturday afternoon [June 2, 1855]. [My brother] Ralph has just been over to the village [of Owego] and brought your very welcome letter mailed on May 21st and it contained so much better news than we were afraid might come. I do wish [my brother] James would write often. I know it would beguile many a lonely hour. Oh how thankful I am that you were all well — excepting your cold. You must be careful of that. And then you had a little rain. Would that it only came as fast as we had it today which has softened the parched ground a great deal.
And so [my brother] James has a yoke of oxen too? I am glad he could get them and I do hope he will do well and be contented. How far is his cabin from Henry’s? And does Nancy cook his bread? And does he get water there [at Henry’s]? How does he get along cooking? He used to say he could do it well enough but never tried at home. Fessendon is a Connecticut name — at least I knew a family of that name in Hartford. I am pleased they have such near and good neighbors. It will make it pleasant for Nancy. How near are your nearest [neighbors]? And do the snakes ever venture near the door? I hope not for I am not over fond of seeing them and should not care to receive calls from rattlesnakes! I am glad the children can go out some to gather flowers. Are they very different from [the flowers] we have? I am sorry Nancy did not take her rag carpet. It would make her room more home like. Did you say the floor of your cabin was 15 feet square? How do you get along cooking? Are you at home much of the time? If the cholera prevails this summer, it would not be best for you to come east until it is cooler. You would not anyway until after conference I suppose. I saw by the Almanac that it is to be the 11th of October.
I think I can truly say my health is much better and I have decided not to go to Connecticut. I should enjoy the visit exceedingly but lack of filthy lucre will prevent [my going] unless absolutely necessary for my health. I am sorry that I have no more but I will try and be very prudent so as not to tax you. If I had known you were going to Kansas, I should not have expended so much as I have in things not so suitable for Kansas as Indiana. My bedding, sheets, and tablecloths & such things are nice, but more common ones would have done just as well. But it was too late. When, in a few years we shall need them, they will be ready. I am going to try and walk to the village on the railroad [track] next week. I have not done it since last July, but I am feeling much better and hope to be entirely well before long. Your mother received her letter through Mr. Brooks. [Your brother] Samuel and [his wife] Malvina passed here this afternoon. I was in hopes they would stop. It was before I received your letter. I should think it would be very pleasant to meet as they intend [to do] at Topeka. I hope Henry and James went. I wish you could have gone.
We will send a letter to James within your care and if you think we had better send to Topeka, please write. We have sent several [letters] and papers too. I do not want you to take the time to write — you ought to be studying. But I do want to hear from you just as often as convenient. How many miles do you have to ride? And do you preach very much? What shall I do when you are not there — leave me to hear the wolves or take me along on Jacob?
My letters are mostly written the last of the week as yours come Friday or Saturday. I got one ready to send Monday. They know my handwriting at the Post Office. I wrote on some envelopes for [my brother] James to take in his pocket to send home on the way and when the first one from Chicago came, Frank Armstrong [the postmaster] asked Ralph if his sister had gone to Chicago!
I hope Henry and James will get along and do well. It would greatly please some people around here if they should only get sick of it and come back. But time says stop. Are not my letters like myself — scraps of nothing? It would not be much loss if you could not read it all. Good night.
That you may do good and be blessed is the prayer of your, — Augusta
“The third Quarterly Conference was held May 27th and 28th in a grove on the Wakarusa [river], which the Herald of Freedom identified as ‘about two miles from the Big Mound near Mr. Moorehead’s.’ It was advertised through this paper that ‘those desiring to come are requested to come with their camping-wagons, prepared to stay during the two day services.'” ² In his book, Outposts of Zion, Rev. William H. Goode humorously tells how, in the midst of a sermon at this meeting, a great commotion was caused by the killing of a rattlesnake.
On May 29th and 30th, Revs. Griffing and Goode spent a couple of days in the vicinity of Topeka and then, on May 31st, traveled on to Juniata and Big Blue River. According to Miss Abbie Allen, resident of Juniata, “the Methodists held an extensive meeting at Mr. Dyers” on June 3rd at which time Rev. Goode appointed Rev. Charles Lovejoy to the “Fort Riley Mission” — a circuit that extended from the Pottawatomie Mission on the east to Ft. Riley on the west. Following the meeting, Miss Abbey recorded that “18 dined at Mr. Allen’s on baked beans, plum pudding, bread and butter. Many more were cared for at Mr. Dyer’s.” Although history does not record it, the Revs. Goode and Griffing undoubtedly rode down to the junction of the Big Blue and Kansas Rivers to see the fledgling community started there. It is reported that on June 4th, the members of the Cincinnati and Kansas Land Company, with its steamboat “Hartford” grounded on a sandbar at the mouth of the Big Blue River, gave up their plans to settle further west and decided to marry their fortunes with the Boston Company. Their town, it was decided, would be called Manhattan.
When James returned to his little cabin in “Walnut Grove,” he wrote to Augusta of his recent trip to Ft. Riley:
Walnut [Grove] Cabin, [Wakarusa, Kansas Territory]
June 8, 1855My Dear Augusta,
I am sorry after so long a delay that I have no more time for writing. Your very welcome letter written on May 16th was only taken from the [post] office yesterday and was perused with the usual avidity. After reading, I could but lift my heart in gratitude for your Providential deliverance where death seemed so very near and almost unavoidable. How well it was that your Mother got out of the wagon. Now I only wish that you had been out here where side hills and stumps are more rare and where you might have reigned [your horse] out upon the broad prairie and let him run to his heart’s content — only now and then applying the leash. I am sure that when he stopped, you would have crowned him with a wreath of flowers for giving you so fine a ride.
By the way, you could have collected a most beautiful bouquet of flowers while out upon the prairies here — as great a variety of delicate flowers that grow in the gardens back there. I have seen no violets, however. Will they spring from the seeds? But the most beautiful of all now is a most fragrant little red rose found in abundance all over the prairies. I am sorry to say that my garden will not probably amount to much this year. I have been obliged to be absent so much. I planted quite a quantity of seeds and they have come up finely but I was unable to secure them with a suitable fence in time and Dr. Still’s 100 cattle have nearly destroyed all prospects. And the probability is that I shall dispose of this claim for what I can get and take up one near Topeka. I am afraid this one is on such bottom land that it may prove unhealthy. And I have managed to secure [a claim up] there that I like far better. With your letter came one from Brother Giddings stating his intention of coming out to Kansas in June or July. He says that if he likes it, he will “stick his stake” somewhere.
You speak of the “dreadful things” you read about Kansas and you are by no means the only one that deems to apprehend great difficulties in the settlement of the territory. But the excitement now is all out in the states. [The excitement] was only here during one day, at which time our rights were disregarded by a gang of drunken, worthless villains. After [this], all has been quiet as the calm of a summer’s evening — almost as free from disturbances as any home in the states. The result has been to bring among us a larger increase of emigration and now we are — or will be soon — so strong that a repetition of such an outrage will not dare be tried. Besides, the more respectable portion of Missouri frowns upon such an invasion and by no means countenance such conduct.
Poor Emily. Such a loss, at such a time and circumstances. It must tend to throw a dark and gloomy shadow over the bright anticipations that lit up her future. Truly it must be crushing to be thus early clothed in the garb of widowhood. Was she a professing Christian?
I left [my brother] Henry on Thursday last. [His daughter] Velma is yet quite unwell and I am afraid will never recover. The rest are quite well. I assisted [your brother] James on Wednesday and we plowed the ground and planted an acre and a half of corn. He intends to plant six acres [in total]. His garden appears quite well. His locust seed have come in rich abundance. He begins to like it quite well. He has just secured a letter from home in which was enclosed one from [your brother] Stephen. James thought much of it. Please encourage him to write and James will write in return. It will do them both so much good. When I told you it would be better to send his letters to Lawrence, I was not aware that he would probably be as sure of them at Topeka. But it seems those you directed there came soon and safe so you should send all there now.
I have just returned from a third trip to Fort Riley. I went [this time] with my beloved Elder Goode. We had quite a pleasant time. He says he will release me from the duties of my circuit about the 24th of August if I will consent to go [back] east begging [funds] for two churches we are trying to build here. I never practiced the art much and do not know how I shall succeed. But as it is for a good cause, I believe I shall try it. And so you must not be surprised if you find me home about the 1st or 2nd week in September. If I have good luck in my engagement, [I will have sufficient time to] make quite a visit. I would be glad to raise a thousand dollars. If contributions are small and success poor, I cannot stay but a short time. It will keep me busy. [Do you] think you will know me? Doubtful! I shall be too much like a Mexican in color, too much like a rag-picker in appearance, and too much like a Jonathan in manners. But I will agree to tell you who I am if you do not. I know not how long it will take to rub off the boorishness acquired by a year’s life on the frontier. But I do hope that a visit — out where there are houses and beds to sleep on, where they eat on tables instead of trunks, sit on chairs rather than stools, and have more than one room in the house — will do me good.
I am [soon] expecting a co-laborer with me in the person of Brother [Levin B.] Dennis ³ which will lessen my work [here in Kansas Territory] somewhat. [He will be stationed in Lawrence while I] will be sent out into new neighborhoods to organize classes and make appointments. A minister has [also] been stationed at Fort Riley so that it will not be necessary for me to go up there again.
How much I miss a permanent house and a good library. I hope I may have both ‘ere long. My kind regards to all at home — your parents, brothers, sisters, as well as to all our folks. The weather is delightful — the air is pure and stirring. The crops so far as cultivated appear well. [Your brother] James’ sod cabin was caving in when I was there. [It was so bad that] he had to go in almost on all fours. I took dinner with him. His rice pudding, codfish, and coffee were all quite good. I never saw him look more healthy. He has a log cabin partly built but he hurries about with other work. And you know where one is obliged to be [both] boss and [hired] hand, doing all work indoors and out, he cannot turn the world over in a day.
[Henry’s wife] Nancy has, at times, been quite homesick… [But] then again quite contented. I suppose [she] would be much more [contented] if her children were healthy. Henry likes the country very much and could not be easily hired to go back. James thinks certainly of staying one year, if not two. [He will stay] at least until he can preempt and then rent his farm out to someone. Tell your folks to be careful how they write to him and say nothing that will cause him to want to come home — unless they really should want him home, and then it would be best to say so directly. But I must close. You will think paper is scarce here but I forgot to get some at Lawrence. I borrowed two sheets and, as I wish to write three or four letters, I must divide.
Please excuse and believe me ever your own, — James
Grave of Sa-sa-na in Owego, NY
¹ The gravestone mentioned by Augusta was erected in memory of Sa-sa-na Loft, a young Indian girl who with a brother and sister became “educated and skilled musicians.” When the “young trio gave two concerts in Owego in February of 1852, they aroused so much admiration and sympathy for the cause [which was to raise enough money to publish the Bible in Mohawk], that the distinguished jurist, Judge Charles P. Avery, invited them to be his guests in his fine house.” Shortly after leaving Owego, Sa-sa-na was killed in a train accident and, upon hearing of the tragedy, Judge Avery “was so moved that he requested the grieving brother and sister to bring the remains of Sa-sa-na to Owego for burial.” She was initially buried in the Avery vault in the old Presbyterian churchyard on Temple Street but later moved to Evergreen Cemetery, “which slants up a steep hill behind the town.” In 1855, “a white marble obelisk was raised at the loftiest point of the cemetery. Seventeen feet high, it stands on a base of veined marble which rests on a sub-base of blue granite. The girl’s body lies buried at its foot. On one side of the shaft are inscribed these words: ‘In memory of Sa-sa-na Loft, Indian maiden of the Mohawk Woods, Canada West, who lost her life in the railroad disaster at Deposit, N.Y. Feb. 18, 1852, aged 21 years.’ Cut into the opposite side is a representation of a wild rose with broken stem. And on the side sometimes lighted by Susquehanna sunsets the words: ‘By birth a daughter of the forest; by adoption a child of God.'” Quotations from the book, The Susquehanna, p. 363-365.
² Mary Patterson Clarke, History of the First Methodist Episcopal Church of Lawrence Kansas, p. 8.
³ “In the summer of 1855, Rev. Levin B. Dennis was transferred from the Iowa to the Missouri Conference, Kansas-Nebraska Mission District. Within this district he was associated with Mr. Griffing in the Wakarusa Mission, and, being the senior, was placed in charge. From this fact, and because he took up residence in Lawrence, while Mr. Griffing removed to a more distant claim at about this time, he should be considered the local pastor [of Lawrence] from perhaps June to October of this year. Mr. Dennis was born at Salisbury, Maryland, July 9, 1812, and was educated at Norwalk Academy in Ohio. In 1834 he was married to Miss Betsey Davis Holloway… He was licensed as a local preacher in 1840 and two years later was admitted to the Illinois Conference. He served two years in Arkansas, but was transferred to Iowa on the secession of the Southern Church, and served a number of important pastorates there before his transfer to the Missouri Conference in 1855. He was a middle-aged man, with years of experience behind him at this time, and his son, Baxter Dennis, was a young probationary member of the Methodist ministry and was transferred with him.” Mary Patterson Clarke, History of the First Methodist Episcopal Church at Lawrence, Kansas, p. 9-10.
In his book, Outposts of Zion, p. 324, Rev. Goode described Rev. Levin B. Dennis as “a bold and unflinching pioneer… He had grown prematurely gray — his head like a whitened shock — but [he filled the station] with a firm constitution and a soul on fire. With him was transferred his son, Rev. Baxter C. Dennis, then a youth on trial. The father was associated with the preacher on the Wakarusa Mission, including the town of Lawrence and, being the senior, was placed in charge. The son was sent as junior preacher to the Leavenworth Mission.”
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