The Memoirs of John Andrews, Part 3

Here are the previous parts of the memoirs:
Part 1: School Days, 1835 to 1850
Part 2: Relatives and Travels
Part 2a: That Daguerreotype

Farm Inventions, Politics, and Business

After our long vacation I felt that I must be doing, but as it was the beginning of winter, farm work for the present was largely suspended. Stock had to be cared for, wood provided for the coming year, fences repaired, and sundry jobs as they came up.

Father was an enthusiastic conservator of any material that would add fertility to the soil and looked upon the universal habit of burning the old cornstalks to get them out of the way for the succeeding crop as a waste. He sought for some way to avoid that and even went to the expense of time and labor in cutting them up by hand. This was slow work, but very necessary then so that with the plows we had, they would be put out of [the] way of future cultivating. It was suggested that a tool might be made to do the work as well, and I was put on the job and succeeded. This was operated by horse power and was about the first move in the practical employment of mechanical versus hand labor. There was a plow exhibited at the Fair that so interested me, that on my detailing it to Father, the next time he went to Cincinnati he bought one, and the result was almost a revolution in preparing the ground for crops. In the mowing machine I saw a great possibility of relief of that hardest, heaviest hand labor of the summer, work in the meadows with the scythe, and I decided that in due time it must take its place on the farm.

Revolving hay rake

I think it was in 1848 that we got a revolving hay rake, the first real labor saving machine, as it efficiently and rapidly did the work of the hand rake in collecting the hay into windrows. This was a great help in the meadow and was used for some years before and after the advent of the mower until the steel tooth horse rake superseded it.

Steel mower of the 1840s

In the spring of 1854 some of my neighbors had the chance to get mowers and reapers. I got a mower.

Manny mower-reaper

Some got combined mower and reaper—by the way the latter were made by F.H. Manny of Rockford—somehow I did not consider the reaper a real labor saver, and my after experience satisfied that I was right, but the mower lifted a heavy burden from the farmer, and tired arms and aching back felt a glad relief when the scythe was hung up in the old mulberry tree. The mower was a crude affair, but it would cut grass at the rate of eight or ten acres per day, and also left it in the condition to dry without further attention until it was ready for the rake. Father for years had grown an early variety of grass called Orchard Grass, in a small way, as a supplement to piece out the depleted hay mow, and as no one else had it, it gave me the opportunity to be the first one to use a mower in the county.

The McCormick reaper

The reaper was a success so far as the mere cutting was concerned, but was a failure in reducing the expense of harvesting. It required the reaper—with a team and two men to operate it and at least five more to bind and shock; the maximum that was cut was eight acres per day, whereas with the cradle two men were expected to cut, bind and shock at least three to four acres. Myself and another by frequent changing from cutting to binding often put four acres in shock. It appears a paradox. But there were those so skilled in the use of the cradle that they could cut and deliver to the binder following as much as the reaper up to its maximum of eight acres. I once heard a man offer to bet one hundred dollars that he could cut with the cradle eleven acres and got no takers.

A team of men using scythe and cradle

Yes in those days as now, storms sometimes lodged the grain so that it could not be cut with cradles, and as up to this time resort was had to the sickle, a slow process and every day had to be utilized to save the crop and on Sundays the neighbors would meet at some farm where the owner was disabled or behind and help out. This was before the coming of the threshing machine. The old Egyptian and old testament threshing floor was still in vogue, and horses feet did the threshing and to save handling so much straw the tangled grain was thus harvested until the thresher came. In 1856 I became the possessor of a two horse tread power machine which could be used for various purposes. We could now cut the tangled grain with the mower and run it through the thresher. About this time some other types of threshers were introduced, but none exceeded the tread power in ability. But the increase in power of from two to eight horses would naturally result in a large increase, but in fact a number of those sweep powers broke down. I had employed a man to do custom work, and he had to finish up jobs unfinished.

A two-horse treadmill thresher

But all of these machines, including mine, merely passed it through, rakers had to remove the stem and then the grain through the fanning mill to separate the chaff. This improvement of the reaper continued. The self rake took the place of the hand rake, dispensing with the necessity of one man, only the driver was now needed. Soon came the Marsh harvester, when two active men riding on the machine bound the conveniently and automatically delivered sheaths.

Inventive genius was not yet satisfied; a self-binding attachment was sought and several attempts were made. The Burson brothers of Rockford made a wire binder, but it required two men to operate it. A number of their machines were made and distributed, but it was soon abandoned as the farmers found that their cattle in eating the straw as it came from the thresher also swallowed the wire with bad results.

Recourse was now turned to twine for the purpose and finally was accomplished, and I think that Mr. Graham a citizen of Rockford is entitled to the credit. The improvement in threshers kept pace with the binder. In delivering the grain cleaned for market, or for use, yet another great step followed in change from animal power to steam, making it possible to largely increase its capacity. I have wandered a long way from Posey County, Indiana, to Rockford, Illinois, and will try to return with my balking pen to the proper place in this erratic story.

Zachary Taylor

Millard Fillmore

Father was a Whig in politics. Our county and state normal was Democratic. The later Presidents were Democratic, but in 1842, the eclat of the Mexican War brought the successful General Taylor to the front as a candidate and by a large majority he was chosen as President. In a few months he died, leaving Vice-President Fillmore to fill out his term.

For several years a new element had been injected in the political pot. More liberal and uplifting political ideas were seething in the minds of many in both parties, and in 1852 a new party was formed and put a liberal anti-slavery man as candidate for the presidency—John P. Hale. Having reached my majority for the first time I had the privilege of exercising my political duty and did so by voting my county, state and national prejudices. If I remember right I lost on each count.

Meanwhile my farm work continued, and also I took an interest in the store and its management. Eleaser Ellis, the inaugurator with Father in the cooperative idea, was general clerk. The time came when it was necessary to have a name, and it was christened Farmer’s Protective Union, and goods were bought and shipped, produce bought and sold, and exchange was carried on under that name.

The business was a source of vexation to the merchants of Mount Vernon as cheaper prices curtailed their profits, and efforts were made to counteract this effect without avail. Both buying and selling was strictly cash. Some few of the farmers’ products were bought or exchanged for goods, but the principal thing was eggs. These came in large numbers, packed in barrels of 90 dozen eggs and three bushels oats, and were sent to New Orleans by steamboat. I do not think a lot thus handled ever failed to bring a handsome profit.

A mill for grinding grain—making flour and meal—was built and operated on the same plan as the store, but its operation was in such large excess of home demands that a profitable business resulted in sending the surplus to market. With the exception of these articles, I believe there was nothing else handled for profit.

The year 1854 was the dryest and some months the hottest ever known in Posey County. Winter wheat—we grew no spring wheat—was fine and also the hay was very good, but the corn crop on the whole was very meager, probably not more than five bushels per acre. Owing to wrong cultivation many fields were an utter failure. I gave our corn field excessive surface cultivation and had on an average over twenty bushels.

In the harvest that year I became overheated, perspiration stopped, and I had to seek the shade. I could work in the shade or night, but in the sun where it was necessary, unless some means could be found to counteract it, it would be death to work. In those days we wore top boots. I got a pail of water and wet my head and clothes thoroughly, filled my boots with water and was able to resume my labors and for more than twenty years I had to resort to my pail of water in very hot sunshine. Now I am thankful nature has run out and think I could endure the heat of equatorial sunshine with composure. The trouble was that perspiration ceased in the hot sunshine. The wet clothing answered in its place, evaporation keeping the body cool.

Here is Part 4: Father’s Death, Marriage to Mirinda, and New Business Ventures.