From June, 1859, to November, 1860, not enough rain fell “to wet the earth at any one time two inches in depth.” By the autumn of 1860, the ground was parched, springs and wells were dried up, and the water in the creeks was rapidly disappearing. Nearly half the people were destitute. 15,000 left the state.
Counties in the southern portion suffered most. Even the wealthy populous counties of Bourbon, Shawnee, Jackson, Jefferson, were in deplorable conditions. From Shawnee County’s 4,000 acres of wheat only 500 bushels of wheat was harvested.
When it became evident the wheat crop was failing, many settlers plowed up the wheat and planted corn. Then when it was apparent the corn would fail farmers plowed it up and planted buckwheat. When they saw it fail, they plowed again and planted turnips. They also failed.
C.H. Stillwell wrote letters to New York Tribune describing the conditions. Immediately influential persons decried the story and wrote letters stating that Kansas was abundantly able to care for their own needs.
When Thaddeus Hyatt of New York, who had worked with National Kansas Relief Committee in 1856, when the state was racked by conflict between free and slave men, read these reports, he decided to come to Kansas. He came to Atchison. He worked with William F. M. Arny and Samuel C. Pomery. They made a 25-day investigation. They decided to organize the state for relief.
Atchison was to be the center for relief because that was the end of the Hannibal and St. Joseph Railroad. This gave direct shipment.
Hyatt was to raise funds and provisions in the East and Arny to do the same in the West. Pomery was to receive supplies at Atchison.
To store and distribute the relief provisions 12 people were hired. Eight buildings were used, including four warehouses, one clothing room, one office, one hotel, and one grist mill. The buildings were all free of rent, and all but two were owned by Pomery. The mill prepared food free of charge, while the hotel operated as a hospital for those who arrived for aid.
In describing the scene at Atchison, one correspondent of the Chicago Daily Tribune wrote “Great stalwart men, gaunt, lean, hungry-looking, weary, sad, tired and dispirited; poorly clad and in all respects filling one with the conviction of suffering, patiently borne and long repressed.”
The relief work continues until May 1861. The committee reported 15 million pounds of provisions and seed had been distributed and more than $150,000.00 had been received and spent for freight costs.
In addition to this, friends in the East sent supplies to friends here. In the Coal Creek Community, barrels of supplies were received through the church, from the Evangelical Association in the East.
Grandmother Margaret Abbuehl Reichart (Mrs. Frederick), used to tell how she fixed potatoes for Anton Sr. He was old and should have the few grown. It was hard for her not to eat any. This was the year she was married in July. The winter was hard but not as hard in the Coal Creek area as in other parts of Kansas. Another advantage was the closeness to Atchison.
Another story which she told was the story of whether to kill the cow or kill the ox. The year this took place is not remembered. If they killed the cow, there would not be milk, if they killed the ox, they would not have it for plowing. Grandfather Frederick said, “Kill the ox”.
Grandmother Margaret said, “Kill the cow”.
The argument was settled by Anton Jr. who also said, “Kill the cow.” So the cow was killed and the ox was spared for spring plowing and fortunately a fair crop was harvested that year.
In the year 1857 there was rain, but it was scarce and came at the wrong times. The newly turned-up sod needed much more rain than fell. Sod which had been plowed years before bore better. The Reicharts fortunately had planted potatoes on timber soil from which they had just cleared the trees. Here they were able to dig a good potato crop.
The morning of Saturday, December 31,1885, dawned clear and mild (50 degrees) across Kansas. The weather for Christmas had been good and Kansas prepared to welcome the New Year.
But that morning a yellowish-purple tint appeared along the northern horizon. Then white fleecy clouds began to move into northwest Kansas, and the barometer dropped.
After lunch light rain began to fall in the Northwest and spread over the state. Temperatures dropped fast (dropping to 7 degrees below zero over night) and rain turned to snow. Two thirds of Kansas was covered with ice with a blanket of 4 to 8 inches of snow. The wind then blew 80 miles per hour making drifts l0 feet tall. Temperatures continued to drop to 10, 20, 25 degrees below zero across the state. There were five days of this, until the weather broke, only to be followed by another storm.
Trains were stalled. Several trains in Western Kansas made it to Dodge City. Cattle on the trains were let out of the cars but only one quarter survived until the next morning. Cattle on the plains drifted south with the storm. When they reached the Union Pacific, the right-of-way fences stopped them and most froze to death. Years later a common remark was “One could walk from Ellsworth to Denver on carcasses of cattle that died January 1886.
Much of wild life was destroyed: jackrabbits, prairie chickens, antelope, and birds of every description.
Only three passenger trains crossed Kansas and reached Denver in all that January. There were a few stage lines in operation yet. One arrived in Camp Supply, Indian Territory with the driver frozen. Those inside did not know that he was dead.
Some caught without fuel had to burn corn on the cob or their furniture. Many stayed in bed to keep warm. Some dug caves into drifts to shelter animals. One farmer to save two prize horses took them into his house with the family.
In the Coal Creek Community no lives were lost. The weather was not quite as severe as in the open plains--there were wooded areas and hills which offered some protection from the onslaught of the wind, Animals died where farm buildings could not house them and feed was not stored in or near the barns. Even so the experience was frightening.
The grasshoppers were so thick that when droves of them took to the air, they were as clouds hiding the sun. Grasshoppers are heavy feeders so there were no crops that year. In 1875 there was partial failure from the young hoppers which hatched the year before. At this time there were no known controls for insects so that all one could do was to watch them devour vegetation. It could only be hoped that the winters would be cold enough to kill the hoppers under cover for the winter and also destroy eggs that were laid by the adults. Again people needed help from the East. Food was needed and seeds for the planting of new crops. These were the greatest of the needs at this time.
Aunt Christina Reichart Abbuehl used to tell how she sent the older girls up and down the rows of grapes chasing the grasshoppers off the vines hoping in this way to save the grapes.
She and the older girls went to the field to sickle the ripe wheat. They took the baby to the field with them. They laid the baby down on a pallet to sleep. Then they covered the face with a large handkerchief to keep the hoppers off.
(Checking on Dates this baby must have been Priscilla Abbuehl).
Source: Gleaned from family and newspapers