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    Yankee Settlement
    Yankee Settlement
    Yankee Settlement
    Ebook76 pages1 hour

    Yankee Settlement

    By Don Wooldridge

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    About this ebook

    Don Wooldridge, has done a fine job of bringing Midred Brewer’s story Yankee Settlement back into print. Beautifully written, this story cronicles the lives of pioneers who left their home and black smithing heritage in Kentucky, to pursue free farm land in northeast Iowa. Readers are enlightened by the story of family, adventure, and love that spanned several decades. You will easily be drawn into a story written in brilliant accuracy of the time that dazzles with intelligence and authenticity.
    The first “promise” evident in Wooldridge’s second edition says so much about how the story unfolds, “Women were strong. Men were stronger. Both were determined to swallow the bitter disappointments of pioneer life and
    push on... building their farms, families, and homes.”
    Mildred Brewer awakens readers to the early days of the Territory of Iowa as her stalwart
    characters come alive in this historical novel. In a descriptive style of writing that brings about visions of bright summer days that faded into fall, and nights that were so cold a freezing frost would float down through the trees—readers can almost touch the
    leaves and timber that become magnificent with a blaze of color. She also deftly mixes up the tone, moving easily in an authentic, and sometimes wry dialogue between Ellen and her husband, neighbors, and children.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDon Wooldridge
    Release dateMay 2, 2016
    ISBN9781311292964
    Yankee Settlement
    Author

    Don Wooldridge

    Don Wooldridge enjoys writing in a variety of genres, and avoids vulgarity, or explicit sex in his work. To date he’s written 4 fiction novels, 2 non-fiction novella's, 28 short stories, and 1 memoir telling how he found ways to manage his bipolar disorder over 45 years.COMING SOON:SAMMY MY GUARDIAN ANGEL spring 2019.FRIENDS FOREVER, book 4 of the "Secrets of Clayton County" series, Summer of 2019.You can contact Don at booksbydon@gmail.com.Visit website @ donwooldridgeauthor.com

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      Book preview

      Yankee Settlement - Don Wooldridge

      YANKEE SETTLEMENT

      Second Edition

      Mildred Brewer

      and

      Donald Wooldridge

      Free Land!

      Adventure!

      A New Beginning!

      These things motivated a man of vision and ambition to pack up in 1938 and leave his home and family in Kentucky, to begin a new life out on the frontier of the Iowa Territory, where settlers and Indians fought for the same land.

      This migration story of John Wooldridge and his two brothers took them to Clayton County, Iowa were they began their life as pioneer farmers.

      Women were strong. Men were stronger. Both were determined to swallow the bitter disappointments of pioneer life and push on building their farms, families, and homes.

      John Wooldridge’s 5th child, Ellen Wooldridge, married Elmer Brewer, and shared the story of her families pioneer life with Mildred Brewer. At age 92, Mildred penned the original story of Yankee Settlement.

      As an Iowan and member of the Wooldridge family, I’m proud to carry on Mildred’s story about my great-great grandfather, John.

      This story is fiction. It is based on true events related to us by Ellen and combined with characters and happenings of my own creation.

      M.B.

      CHAPTER 1

      Ellen had lived more than half her lifetime when I first met her. Her white hair was center parted, marcelled and drawn back to a neat coil at the back of her head. Her blue eyes sparkled through rimless glasses. I suppose you could have called her a freelance domestic. She washed walls, floors, clothes, newborn babies and bed patients; all with the same quick movement of her sturdy hands, all for the same fee. She was a small wiry person with the spirit and hardiness of a pioneer and a memory that could (and often did) reach back into the timbers of very early American life. Ellen’s parents, John and Mary Wooldridge, were in fact pioneers of the Territory of Iowa.

      Pa was born in Todd County, Kentucky, Ellen began. He drove a peddle wagon for a while – but Pa was a cooper by trade. He could do anything though – anything he put his mind to. He came, with his two older brothers, my Uncle Spencer and Uncle Greenberry, to farm in the north eastern part of Iowa Territory.

      She glanced up from her worktable to be sure we were listening, then continued. When my uncles got married and moved away, Pa stayed at the little farm along Bear Creek and took care of it for them and I remember Ma telling . . .

      Ellen would relate in detail the life of settlers and stories of life in the log house where she was born. She told of the plodding oxen or the iron kettle that stood in the dooryard, of her mother washing clothes beside the creek and soon it became so real that you almost wished to have lived during that time when the land was new and the fish in the streams were those that had hatched there.

      So recently had the Louisiana Purchase been negotiated. So recently had the Indians relinquished title of their lands to the White Man for promises that had failed and failed. The Territory of Iowa! Here the land rose up out of the Mississippi Valley with deep stony gorges, rugged hills and dense timber land that smoothed out into a rolling prairie that reached on west to the Missouri River basin. Rivers, creeks and tiny brooks meandered across the land. In the low lands ponds fed by the rainfall provided a haven for migratory waterfowl on the long flights to the North or to the South.

      In the northeastern part of the Territory the gobble of wild turkeys rang out clear and audible through the stillness of the timber. Along the banks of the river willow and cottonwood saplings grew close together and were interlaced with vines of the wild hops that gave off their pungent fragrance when the sun dropped behind the timber on a late summer afternoon. The mew of a frightened catbird mingled with the soft swish of the river as some stealthy predator foraged near her nest for his supper.

      When the bright summer days faded into fall, the nights were cold and a freezing frost would float down through the trees, touch the leaves, and the timber would become magnificent with a blaze of color. Shades of red, yellow, brown, and every tint and hue of these colors included in this splendor of nature’s beauty. For accent, a few dark green leaves of summer remained on the trees. On warm sunny days during the autumn, a light haze veiled the hillsides and the soil gave off a smoky fragrance. Indian Summer! Little wonder the white man was so attracted to this part of the country. Less wonder at the Indians’ reluctance to give it up.

      Later, when the sun had tipped southward and the leaves had become a rustling brown carpet for the ground, the trees stood naked and bleak against the hillsides and the first of winter snow would fall in the night. As winter progressed, the snow deepened and deepened. The relentless north wind drove it across the land, around the naked trees and molded it into great drifts that covered fences and buried trains. At night the settlers would listen while the wind gently pushed snow up against their cabin door and thought it could be the soft, soft tread of an Indian. They had no conscious concern for the well-being

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