This is Part 2 of Chariton Leader editor Dan Baker's report on an excursion into southwest Iowa during early summer 1875. The first half, "Dan Baker does uppity Red Oak, then Hamburg," is here. His report was published in The Leader on June 12 and June 26, 1875. This segment was headlined, "Our Fishing Trip to Hamburg and Return."
Dan refers several times in these reports to the swarms of grasshoppers he encountered in southwest Iowa that year. These actually were Rocky Mountain Locusts, a species that had plagued U.S. farmers at intervals every 10 years of so but especially during the mid-1870s --- when they swarmed in unimaginable numbers --- since the late 18th century.
The locusts had arrived in the rich Missouri River valley, especially western Missouri, during 1874 in time to lay eggs in vast numbers to hatch the following spring. When Dan arrived in Hamburg, the locusts were maturing and already devouring crops. Although western Iowa and western Minnesota would be affected (perhaps the best-known victims were the Charles Ingalls family --- think Laura Ingalls Wilder --- in western Minnesota), Kansas and Nebraska were especially hard hit.
Baker refers somewhat disparagingly in this segment to Missouri Gov. Charles Henry Hardin who, concluding that the locust plague reflected divine judgment, had declared June 3 to be a statewide "public day of humiliation, fasting and prayer for deliverance."
This variety of locust had by 1900 inexplicably gone extinct, so we needn't worry about a new plague. Scientists are still scratching their heads about the vanishing act, but suspect pioneers and their plows were largely responsible as they altered the nature of preferred breeding grounds like the Missouri River valley.
In any case, here's Dan's report:
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After having gazed upon the beauties of Hamburg to our satisfaction, we proposed to test our skill with hook and line in the large bayou running through the city. All things being ready we set out for the stream and soon found ourself conveniently located upon its grassy banks with hook gently resting in the water, while we gently leaned our care-worn frame against a tree and slept. When we awakened some hours afterward and found our hook still there, with the worm still wiggling on it, we made up our mind at once that it was the most pleasant fishing under the circumstances that we had ever done in our life. Nothing had disturbed our bait in the slightest, therefore we were not compelled to rebait our hook every few minutes.
The grasshoppers in the meantime had stolen a silent march upon us, and had marshalled their forces around us to an extent that was alarming. Huge platoons were stationed in a semicircle in a few feet of us, with the evident design of cutting off our retreat and forcing us to take water.
It was a strategic move that would have astonished Sherman in his happiest military days. Meantime Jake Smith, who had gone along with us to teach us the noble art, had maintained his original position upon the bank with a degree of composure and perseverance that was worthy of old Walton himself. For five hours he had set there without moving and without getting a bite, until at last, near sundown, with a whoop of joy he threw out a small sized fish called a shad. "Ah," said said Smith with a chuckle of exultation, "I guess I'm a thinning you out now." But the truth was the fish were just beginning to bite, the hoppers were jumping into the water by hundreds and the fish were as eagerly jumping at them and one had accidentally run across his bait and got taken in, pretty badly, too.
Smith's success was the signal for renewed efforts upon our part and rejecting the angle worm bait, we adopted the theory of feeding the fish upon their own kind of food, therefore we took grasshoppers. The idea was practical and worked like a charm, and e're long all of us, Smith, Devore and ourself, were slinging hickory backed shad out of that bayou at a rate that threatened their extermination.
Had the Disciples been there with their net at the time they were called upon to become fishers of men, in all probability they never would have figured in sacred history as the men of note they once were, but would most likely have been handed down to modern history as the champion fishermen of the Nishnabotna.
After piling up nearly forty pounds of fine looking fellows we concluded that for one afternoon's sport, that would do very well, and all of us adjourned home.
The next two days were devoted principally to eating fish and trying to catch some more, but not another one could we get. The weather had turned cold, wet and disagreeable, and the water was rising rapidly, which accounted to some extent for our ill luck in catching them, though it is barely possible we had caught all there was in the country. Smith however insisted that there were whales in the vicinity. We did see a nineteen pound cat a fellow had speared, but had our doubts about there being any more.
On Saturday after vainly trying to get a few more fish, we took a walk down into Missouri about a mile distant, to see what effect Gov. Hardin's proclamation had had upon the grasshoppers, and to our astonishment found that every mother's son of them were migrating northward into Iowa as fast as possible. We never would have believed it had we not seen them ourself. Such is the effect of an official order from headquarters. Every grasshopper had a pass from Gov. Hardin, a copy of his proclamation, and a map of Iowa with him. We would quietly suggest to (Iowa) Governor (Cyrus C.) Carpenter that possibly the executive of our sister state has violated good faith in thus turning loose upon us this scourge, but if it should turn out that he has a right to do so under the Constitution, then our Governor ought to recollect that there are verdant fields and pastures green in Minnesota, and he ought to issue his proclamation accordingly before the hoppers have done our State much injury.
Crops in the neighborhood of Hamburg not destroyed were looking finely. Corn was far ahead of anything that we had seen in the state, while small grain was excellent.
On Sunday, at 5 o'clock p.m., we took the train for Chariton but 150 miles distant. Heavy rains had almost overflowed the beautiful valley of the Nishna, yet the country was a marvel of beauty; beautiful little towns along the road had sprung up like magic in the past few years, while in every directions large farms could be seen in a good state of cultivation. Crops up the valley were rather backward owing to the heavy rainfalls and backward spring, but with a fair season, they will yet produce wonders in the grain line.
As next day was show-day at Red Oak, at every station crowds of boys, girls, men and women, got on the train for that city, determined to see Howes' Circus, whether farming went on or not.
To our great relief, we soon reached that city, and were e're long seated in one of the elegant and comfortable palace coaches of the B. & M., bound for home, which we reached in about four hours, feeling as much rested as though we had been out on a two weeks electioneering campaign.
Take it all in all, we occasionally enjoy a little trip of this kind and would advise those upon whom work and care have seized a strong hold, to just drop everything once or twice a year and seek some delightful retreat away from business, where they can luxuriate in the delightful occupation of doing nothing to their hearts content, and if they can't make money at it, they can at least enjoy the consolation of knowing what money was made for by spending it. It does a man good both in body and soul, and we have no doubt that if every man had the leisure time to devote to a little more outdoor amusement, he would, in the end, be healthier, wealthier, and happier, besides a better and wiser man.
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