Showing posts with label Pioneer life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pioneer life. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Four Ways Pioneers Stayed Warm in Cold Weather


I'm sitting in my kitchen with my coat on, hood up, a blanket on my lap and gloves on, trying to stay warm while workmen replace our sliding door and several windows--in January. I'm super thankful there's no snow and that the temps have risen to a tolerable 49 from the low teens we had last week. 

I was contemplating what to write about for my blog post this month and got to wondering how the pioneers kept warm when so many of them had so little. As a historical writer whose mind is often focused on the late 1800's, I'm tend to compare life now to how they lived back then. 

 
Sure glad there aren't mosquitos this time of year.
We live in our comfortable homes with heat and air, and if we get cold, all we have to do is crank up the temperature. Pioneers could always throw another log or buffalo chip on the fire, but first, they had to find the wood and chop it or travel long distances to collect buffalo chips. Being unprepared brought disaster on many families. 




Early pioneer cabins were generally small, which made for less area to heat. Log cabins averaged 16 feet by 18 feet with seven horizontal logs high. In colder climates, the dirt floor would freeze in the winter, and the woman would often stand on a block of wood while she did household chores. It makes you wonder what she did with her crawling babies, doesn't it?

In bitter conditions, some people stayed in bed as much as possible in order simply to stay warm. “Cabin fever” was widespread during long snowstorms. One diary entry states that a man suffered a frozen big toe when it poked out of the covers one winter night. 


The cabin’s fireplace was the center of attention in the home and created warmth when a person was close, but it did little to heat the corners of the home. Larger homes had a fireplace or woodstove in each room. In the evening, people would sit around the fire, talking and working on small tasks and hand-crafted items.

There are four main ways that people stayed warm in earlier times:

1. Heavy bedding and thick curtains.

Down comforters allowed families to sleep in comfort with their body heat held in by the covers. Beds were piled high with quilts and comforters in an attempt to keep warm. Children often sleep several to a bed to help them all stay warm. Heavy night clothing gave them an additional layer of insulation against the cold, and most people slept with stocking caps to keep from losing heat through the top of their heads.

Bed curtains were an added source of warmth in cold weather. The extra layer of fabric used for the curtains would help hold a person’s body heat in the bed area.



2. Bed warmers

A covered copper or brass pan with a long handle served as a bed warmer. Holes would be punched in the lid, creating a design, and the pan was filled with heated rocks. The warmer was slid between bedding layers using the long handle before the family retired, thus warming the bed quite effectively.



3. Foot warmers

The foot warmer was similar to a bed warmer but also different. They usually consisted of a wood-framed tin box with a wire handle on it. Heated rocks were also placed inside the foot warmer. It was then placed beside the feet, under a blanket and often left there until the rocks cooled.

The most common use for foot warmers was as a heater in the family wagon when going places. Some of the more wealthy churches had boxed-in pews, and they allowed families to bring in their foot warmer and lap blankets to keep warm during the service. Many times, the foot warmer was the only heat to be found on a chilly Sunday morning.




4. Soapstones

An alternative to a bed and foot warmer was a soapstone. Soapstones would be placed in the fire to heat and use directly in the bed or wagon. They were usually wrapped in rags to prevent burns from the hot stones. Due to their mass, soapstones were often more effective than a foot warmer. The more massive the stone, the more heat it held.


I'm sure the pioneers had other creative ways to stay warm, but these four methods were most often used. I'm typing this with my coat and hood on, a blanket on my lap and gloves while the men work on our windows. Have you read a book or diary that mentioned another way people stayed warm in cold weather?





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Bestselling author Vickie McDonough grew up wanting to marry a rancher, but instead, she married a computer geek who is scared of horses. She now lives out her dreams penning romance stories about ranchers, cowboys, lawmen, and others living in the Old West. Vickie is a best-selling author of more than 45 published books and novellas, with over 1.5 million copies sold. Her novels include End of the Trail, winner of the OWFI 2013 Booksellers Best Fiction Novel Award. Song of the Prairie won the 2015 Inspirational Readers Choice Award. Gabriel’s Atonement, book 1 in the Land Rush Dreams series, placed second in the 2016 Will Rogers Medallion Award. Vickie has recently stepped into independent publishing.







Saturday, December 16, 2017

Locust invasion and US Army aid




Cara Grandle here.
Have you ever read a western, settlers or pioneer novel where a major environmental catastrophe was involved? Floods, fires, blizzards? How about locusts? Over the next few posts I’m going to talk about interesting historical facts behind several of these obstacles.

Starting with locusts.

Locust storm wipe out everything. Crops. Food. Wood. Even the wool off the sheep’s back. They were a serious threat to survival. An invading swarm could mean starvation for all around.

Where should we begin?

How about finding out the difference between a grasshopper and a locust?

Quoting the Encyclopedia of Animal Behavior contributor, Alexandre Bsevolo Latchininsky, Entomologist says, “All locusts are grasshoppers but not all grasshoppers are locusts. Out of 12,000 described grasshopper species in the world, only about a dozen should be considered locusts.”


Phew. Only a dozen. Which after we figure out what defines a locust you will be as grateful as I am that only 12 of 12,000 behave this way:

  • Dreaded and destructive. 
  • Like a firestorm. 
  • Travel on the winds. 7 mph. Looks like a dust cloud. Desert locust covers huge area. 
  • Wings crackling. Thrumb-humbing buzzing. 
  • Scientists don’t know how the insects choose to land. Maybe color…the green of food looks like a McDonalds stop. They eat everything. One woman reported wearing a dress of white with green stripes. The locusts settled on her and ate every bit of the green stripe in the dress before anything could be done about it.
  • Locusts are three inches long, weigh one ounce, and eats its body weight in one day. 
  • Locusts respond different than grasshoppers to crowding. It changes color. From russet browns to yellow and black. Then it eats a belly full of poison plants, so if a predator eats him it will not eat another. The head changes shape. They band. After they eat all the local food, they swarm. 
  • The swarm is able to eat up to 200 tons of vegetation in a single day.
  • Locusts swarms have been recorded on every continent accept Antarctica.
  • Locusts outbreaks happened on a small scale every 3-5 years, with a major infestation every 6-8 years. 



Libya, June 2012, 2 million people starved to death after a locust infestation that could have been prevented with infestation control. A political move by a now deceased leader led to this tragedy.


Utah, July 1847, A swarm of Mormon Crickets, a wingless desert locust three times the size of a regular desert locust, marched by the millions clearing 10,000 acres of crops. Cannibals, they march to keep from getting eaten by the locust behind them. The swarm lasted for three weeks.


Rocky Mountains, June 1875, the sun was blocked for five days as the land was infested with Rocky Mountain Locusts. Named Albert’s Storm. Albert Child was a county judge and a weather watcher who measured the swarm with his weather tools. He determined that the swarm was 100 miles wide, 1,800 miles long, and 1.5 miles high, containing 3.5 trillion locusts covering 198,000 miles. 300 thousand acres destroyed.
As the weather cooled the swarms would collect on the railroad tracks to absorb the heat of the sun by day and retain it well into the night. They wouldn’t get out of the way of the train, creating a slippery gooey mess that made train passage precarious.


Famine. Death by starvation. 

Survival facts:

Farmers tried all sorts of things to scare the insects away. They built trenches and filled them with fire only to have the grasshoppers smother the fires. One survival tactics was to eat the locust. Many pulled the legs and wings and fried them in butter to stay alive.

Only 1 in 10 families were left with enough provisions to last out the winter. Kansas alone lost one third of its population. Folks abandoned their stakes and return to the east, slowing The Oregon Trail flood by 20 percent. 


 

Where is the hope in such news?
People are resilient. People do great things.

Hope:
The first ever organized relief effort preformed by the US Army was in answer to this locust invasion.
During that terrible winter, soldiers distributed thousands of heavy coats, boots, shoes, woolen blanket and nearly 2 million rations to suffering families in Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, Colorado Territory and Dakota Territory. More importantly, it gave the Army a beginning experience with this type of aid.


Add more hope:
The eggs from this massive storm hatched and were frozen out by an early winter storm and the people passed The Grasshopper Act which made it mandatory for able-bodied men to work for at least 2 days during hatch season to eliminate locust larva or be fined $10.00. On top of that, they offered a bounty of $1.00 a bushel for locust's larva collected. By the 1880s they had recovered enough to resume exports. Some switched to winter crops that could be harvested before the larva hatched.


And the final hope:
The Rocky Mountain Locust is now considered extinct. The last sighting was in 1902 in Canada. The reason they are extinct is still considered a mystery.

With all this crazy, it’s amazing to me that there aren’t more stories of locust invasion in pioneer, western, and settler stories. Hmmmmm. Book idea anyone?
Have you ever experienced any sort of insect invasion? I'd love to hear from you.



If you've made it this far, I'd like to tell you about something new. I started a podcast. Home for writers, readers and regular Joes. If you are a podcast listener and you need a dose of joy-meets-common sense come on over to Life Caraphrased. 

CaraGrandle is a Historical Romance Novelist who prefers to write about the early settlers of the Pacific Northwest. Think trappers and loggers and scroungy-backed woodsmen. She is represented by the Steve Laube Agency. Cara leads the author4TheAuthor writers group on Facebook, home to 190 writers. Together they're pressing back on busy and making a space for their dreams. 
Cara is currently out on submission. Follower her journey on her Facebook author page.

Prayers much appreciated. Smile.


Friday, May 19, 2017

Chimney Rock from the Rattlesnake Cabin

Traveling the Oregon Trail Backwards, a Road Trip Adventure, Part 6

Chimney Rock, image by Mike Tigas from Columbia, MO, United States (Chimney Rock) [CC BY 2.0] via Wikimedia Commons
This article is brought to you by Janalyn Voigt.

View of Chimney Rock with an Ohalilah Sioux Village in the foreground painted by Albert Bierstadt (1830–1902) [Public domain image], via Wikimedia Commons
‘The only good rattlesnake is a dead rattlesnake,’ attested a sign on the wall of the cabin where we would spend the night. This, following our host’s insistent reminders to watch our step when venturing past the holes that riddled the sun-baked ground outside our door, had a profound effect on my vivid imagination. Even with Chimney Rock, that iconic American icon, standing sentinel in the background, going to the car to retrieve anything became a test of courage put off until absolute necessity demanded that I make the trip.

Some of my most cherished childhood memories are of surprising wildlife on California’s Mount Diablo. The best of them was when my father, brother, and I happened upon a lynx basking in the sun. I’m sure my shock equaled that of the silk-eared animal, who sped off without hesitation. That is not the reflection that stands out when I think of those hikes, however. The first thing that comes to mind is my brother backing me away from tall grasses where rattlesnakes hissed. I was too young to fully understand the danger of the moment. That would come, along with the appropriate thrill of fear, as a result of my stay at this Nebraska ranch. 

Did I actually see a rattlesnake while there? No, but the terror of being bitten by one lodge in my brain and gave me a greater appreciation of the hardy pioneers who crossed the prairie in the warm months, often on foot.


Butter-and-Egg Flower
A compensation, however, was the experience of the prairie itself. I saw it, up close and personal, the next morning when our host took us on a tractor tour of the ranch. He drove past unusual cliff formations while showing off the vast reaches of his property. Spring flowers bloomed in drifts, including one with fragile white petals surrounding a deep yellow center, which I admired. He called it a butter-and-egg flower and stopped to pick one for me in a moment of old-fashioned gallantry.

The ranch tour made up for the rattlesnakes, and we began to talk of returning for a longer visit. This stop changed my understanding of the prairie. It is about dust and shining water, unique formations and common sagebrush, rattlesnakes and blossoms delicate as poetry itself.

My experiences of the American West during an epic road trip with a small family group that retraced the Oregon Trail backward informed me while writing of Hills of Nevermore, first installment in the Montana Gold western historical fiction series.


Hills of Nevermore

Download a free ebook by award-winning author Miralee Ferrell.

Can a young widow hide her secret shame from the Irish circuit preacher bent on helping her survive?

In an Idaho Territory boom town, America Liberty Reed overhears circuit preacher Shane Hayes try to persuade a hotel owner to close his saloon on Sunday. Shane lands face-down in the mud for his trouble, and there’s talk of shooting him. America intervenes and finds herself in an unexpectedly personal conversation with the blue-eyed preacher. Certain she has angered God in the past, she shies away from Shane.

Addie Martin, another widow, invites America to help in her cook tent in Virginia City, the new mining town. Even with Addie’s teenage son helping with America’s baby, life is hard. Shane urges America to depart for a more civilized location. Neither Shane’s persuasions nor road agents, murder, sickness, or vigilante violence can sway America. Loyalty and ambition hold her fast until dire circumstances force her to confront everything she believes about herself, Shane, and God.Based on actual historical events during a time of unrest in America, Hills of Nevermore explores faith, love, and courage in the wild west.

Read the first two chapters free.

About Janalyn Voigt


My father instilled a love of literature in me at an early age by reading chapters from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Robinson Crusoe and other classics. When I grew older, and he stopped reading bedtime stories, I put myself to sleep with tales I 'wrote' in my head. My sixth-grade teacher noticed my interest in storytelling and influenced me to become a writer.

I'm what is known as a multi-genre author, but I like to think of myself as a storyteller. The same elements appear in all my novels in proportions dictated by their genre: romance, mystery, adventure, history, and whimsy. 
Visit http://janalynvoigt.com

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Pioneers, Fun, and Games

--A footnote from history by Stephanie Grace Whitson

Mention the word "pioneer," and most of use envision men and sun-bonneted women, covered wagons and log cabins or sod houses. We think of 
hardy souls braving hostile environments and facing untold challenges with near-mythic grit and gumption. 

Our imaginations swirl with visions of horse-drawn plows and kerosene lamps and, if we're really honest, we don't really think we'd want to go back to those "good old days," because we know they were really ... terrible.

Then again ... were they? 
I love this photograph of a homesteading family. I imagine the guy in the center providing music for church socials and barn dances.

Some references to FUN in the pioneers' own words:

"In the winter time, no matter how cold the weather, we would bundle up and climb into the straw-filled lumber wagon, with plenty of quilts and blankets and drive to Uncle Will's. . . He lived in a sod house and his two sisters, Laura and Lydia kept house for him. Lydia played the violin and could dance and jig with the best of them. Will and Steve and Lydia played for dances and I used to 'chord' for them on the organ some times."

Here's a photograph I took at a museum of a portable organ. Who knew such a thing existed! 


"There were only ten women and forty men and we danced all night, and the men nearly danced us women to death."

" ... at a Calico Ball, the lady made a calico dress and a necktie to match it. The men were given a bunch of neckties and asked to choose one without seeing the lady whose dress it matched. In this way, original partners were selected."

Sod house homeowners lucky enough to have a wood floor would sometimes put all the furniture outside to make room for dances. Apparently it wasn't unusual for someone to play the prank wherein babies asleep on a bed were re-bundled and, in the wee hours of the morning when the dance broke up, mothers simply took up the familiar blanket (who would have thought to check to see if the baby was the right one?!) ... and at some point on the way home or the next morning discovered they had the wrong baby! The anecdote I read about this incident closed with the line, "it was two weeks before the neighbors got all the babies traded back." I could almost hear the story-teller laughing.

Friendships were forged during those days that lasted a lifetime. I love the mental image drawn by this account of how a friendship began:

"George and I precipitated an acquaintance with Dr. and Mrs. Purdum ... they lived in a dugout with a sod roof on which grew tall sunflowers and through which they thrust their stovepipe and in driving one Sunday afternoon we drove upon the roof and our pony stepped through before we knew we were on their dugout. A profound apology cemented our friendship."

Maggie Oblinger Sandon remembered, "Winter evening we would play Authors or Dominoes or Checkers. Dominoes were home-made out of an empty soda box, cut them out and do our own marking of the dots. . . Authors were our delight and it taught us so many of the old-time authors and what books they had written. . . . "

Sunday drives and calico balls ... dances no matter the weather ... Authors and Dominoes and Checkers ... and a mention that "twenty miles isn't so far to drive" all remind me that while twenty-first century life may be stressful, there's value in taking time to have a little fun, too.

___________________________

Stephanie Whitson's latest book takes readers back to the days of the Pony Express. The book is only $3.99! Learn more here: https://www.amazon.com/Messenger-Moonlight-Stephanie-Grace-Whitson/dp/1455529087