Have you ever wondered what life was like when your ancestors arrived in America? I believe ancestors from both sides of my family actually knew each other 70 years before my parents married. Those were direct ancestors on my father’s side and distant relatives on my mother’s side. My father’s side came over on the ship “Polynesia” in April 1888¹. Then they traveled to the Dakota’s. My paternal grandmother remembers her mother talking about a Christian Oster (possible maternal side) that came to America on “Polynesia” and probably lived nearby.

I have read some stories of my ancestors and what they endured. Life in the late 1800’s early 1900’s was so different than life is now. I found the following information in a family history book my great-uncle had written around 1980.

The following articles are taken from a booklet published by The Hazen Star. The name of the booklet “History of Mercer County, North Dakota” by C.B. Heinemeyer and Mrs. Ben Janssen covers the years from 1882 to 1960.

(Note by Mrs. Janssen: The following is the life of many who came to Mercer county between the early ’80s to 1900. Mrs. Schwartz wrote this so well that I will use it almost as she wrote the copy.) Mrs. Schwartz [Schwarz] being Katharina (Weisz) Schwartz.

THE MARTIN WEISZ FAMILY. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Martin Weisz, and family, Mr. and Mrs. Christ Oster and family, Ben Oster’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Adam Oster, and family; Mr. and Mrs. Frederich Richter and family (The Richters were Dave Richter’s parents and my cousins), arrived in Mercer County on April 19, 1888, from Bessarabia, South Russia.

At New Salem, my father bought a team of horses and a wagon. We came to stay with the William Richters at Krem. Mr. Richter met us at the Knife River with his team of oxen. He stopped us and said we should take his team to his farm, and he and my father would drive the horses back to New Salem to get supplies. He said, “The oxen will take you to my home,” which they did.

We stayed with them for two weeks. My father took up a homestead two miles west of William Richter’s and built a sod house. He bought a cow and a team of oxen and started to plow the land.

There were few people here then. Mike Keeley and Jack Gallagher lived near the Knife River. The Heinemeyers and the Lamberts were here. As they had been here a time, they were able to sell some stock.

Money was so scarce that people picked buffalo bones to sell. At first, they were plentiful, but later they were getting scarce. The loads were taken to New Salem and traded for flour, matches, and what was needed most. It was forty-five to fifty miles to New Salem. Mr. Mann and a lady, Mrs. Ott, and her son worked in the store. They also kept people overnight when they came far.

We got the wood for the roofs of our buildings from the Missouri River, which was five miles west and ten miles north. It was a long cold trip and hard work to chop and load the big trees. They had to start early in the morning, and it was late in the evening when they would return.

It was hard to keep up with our church work. My father had built a house of stone and mud with a dirt floor. They would have church or someone read the sermon, first at our house, then at a neighbor’s. So it was here and there. After we were here a while, my sister, born on the ship coming over, passed away. The funeral was at our house, and the funeral text was read by Mr. Schweigert, Mrs. Dan Krause’s grandfather. He had come here about that time.

Later Fredrich Richter built a granary across the road from where Edward Richter used to live. We then used that for a church. I was a sponsor for my sister’s baby, Jacob Radke, who was christened there about sixty years ago.

Ed Machau’s parents, John Machaus, were married in our house. Said Ed Machau, who died this past year at Hazen. At one time, they had confirmation school at our house for six weeks.

My father was postmaster at our place for several years. Later the post office was moved to Krem with Carl Semmler as postmaster.

My father bought a book that was written in English and German. That was the way he learned to read and write. Later they had English school at our home. It was for three months during the winter–one winter at my home, the next at William Richter’s, and once at John Kunz. The teachers were Jack Gallagher’s three sisters, Mary, Rose, and Katy. Later there was a teacher by the name of Mary Mickoule, each teaching one year. Then there was a schoolhouse built near where Herbert Weisz lives. I remember one time we had to say our Christmas pieces at the school on Christmas eve. Before we left, an Indian came, so my father said that mother and the children should go, and he would stay at home with the Indian. We were really afraid to go and leave him alone, but we did go. When we had gone, he gave his knife and what he had to show that he wished to stay overnight.

One time shortly before I was confirmed, I had to stay at home to do the cooking. After the others had left, a whole line of wagons came into the yard. I certainly was scared as they were all Indians. It was in the fall, and the citrons were outside. They each took one and held them up, asking if they could have them. I said, “Yes,” and they went their way, except one boy who stayed behind and asked for butter. I had to go down into the deep root cellar to get the butter. We had watermelons in the cellar. He asked, “Why were those in the cellar?” I told him the others had to be cooked before the citron could eat them. I gave him one, and he gave me the hankie he had around his neck. Then he left on horseback. They threw the citron into the grass by the road after they found they could not eat them.

At that time, we could not sell our cream. One had to make it into butter. We had wooden pails which held ten or twelve quarts. We put the butter into them and covered it with a white cloth, and put the wooden lid on. This was packed into wet hay and taken to New Salem, where we sold it for a few cents a pound.

At that time, we did not know about canning. Carrots and beets were put into the sand and kept in the cellar all winter. Watermelons were packed in barrels with red peppers, dill, and saltwater. Boards were placed over the top, weighted down with a stone to hold them in the brine. The boards and stone had to be washed once a week to keep them fresh. In this way, they would keep until spring. Our other foods were dried beans, sauerkraut, potatoes, bread, kuchen, and syrup.

My father made a table board out of a two-and-a-half-foot tree. He also made a trough from a log to water the horses and cattle.

At that time, prairie fires were a bad thing. Now more settlers had arrived, and they would plow around in the neighborhood to prevent the fire from getting at the buildings. A fire guard was four furrows made about twenty feet apart and burned out between. One time, about 60 years ago, before the fire had burned it out, the fire came. There was a storm, so my father and two brothers, with other men, went to meet the fire to help put it out. They drove about eight miles to Links, but they could not stop the fire. They returned home very much afraid that their buildings would be burned. At the wagon trail going east and west near our home, my mother and I fought the fire with wet sacks on forks and kept it from the farm. There was a clean cornfield on the west side of the farm, and the fire burned into it a way and then burned out. So this is the way, with God’s help, our home was saved. In the morning, everything was black as far as one could see.

GUST WEISZ [Katharina’s brother] (taken from the Hazen Star June 24, 1939) came to Mercer County in April 1888, as a child two years of age, with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Martin Weisz.

They came as far as New Salem by train and from there to this county with a team and wagon. He has one sister living [seven had passed away at the time of writing], Mrs. Mathew Schwartz [Schwarz]. The Weisz family homesteaded near Krem.

Gust Weisz says that his father often told them when the show was too deep for the oxen, he walked to Stanton for groceries–even carrying home a 50-pound sack of flour–a distance of sixteen miles.

When we needed funds to buy groceries, they would gather up a load of bones to haul to Mandan or Hebron and exchange for groceries.

A load of bones brought from $12.00 to $14.00. One time his father went to Hebron with a team of oxen to bring home a binder. On the way home, he stopped at a water hole to allow the oxen to quench their thirst. The animals went into the hole and refused to come out. So there was nothing for him to do but wait patiently until they were ready, which was late in the evening.

An interesting piece of information is the price of groceries. In those days, people could buy 100 pounds of flour for $1.00. [Today, it cost $25.52 for 25 pounds of Pillsbury brand flour!] Eighteen pounds of coffee, $1.00, and good work shoes for about .85¢.

1. Hamburg Passenger Lists 1850-1934, Staatsarchiv Hamburg, Ancestry.com Operations, Inc, Provo, UT, USA, Volume: 373-7 I, VIII A 1 Band 060; Page: 339; Microfilm No.: K_1737. ↩︎