Linn County, Missouri - Chapter 5, 1912

The Great Brought of 1S54 - Development Between 1840-60 - Increase in Tax Levy - Plan to Create Grant County Abandoned - Disastrous Prairie Fires - Census of Leading Toivns - Severe Wind and Hail Storm - The "Locust Plague" - Governor Hardin's Proclamation for Prayers - Linn County Overrun by Hordes of Rats - Story of the "Rat Law" by Its Originator - A Humorous Poem by 'Gene Field - The "Biggest Thing" About the "Rat Law."

The year 1854 brought to Missouri the greatest drought recorded in her history up to that time, and only one approaching it in severity has occurred since.

There was no official weatherman at that time, but the old settlers still living in Missouri will never forget the experiences of that year. Crops were almost a total failure. The streams became dry and in some communities there was a serious question as to whether or not human life could be sustained. The rainfall of the year was about the middle of June, either the 16th or 17th. From that time on the sun shone with undimmed fierceness all through the summer and even until late in the fall. Even the birds left the country for a more congenial habitation. The highways were deep in dust and the stage coaches came in covered as if they had been out in a snowstorm. Each day seemed to increase the heat and misery. In some parts of the state the settlers became discouraged. They moved to other localities. They did not want to live in a country where such blighting droughts occurred. They didn't know but what those things were a common experience in Missouri.

Nothing could be done on the farms. People sat aroimd, hoping for rain or something to relieve the situation. In some counties mass meetings were held to pray for relief. The drought continued right up to winter. Even the early snows seemed rainless with the dust and failed to furnish moisture to the parched earth.

But nature atoned for the chastisement the following year. In 1855 there was one of the largest crops ever produced in Missouri. Garden vegetables thrived lustily, and the old inhabitants will tell you that never before nor since had fresh vegetables tasted quite so good. Since that time Missouri has had dry years and wet years, but nothing as devastating as the summer of 1854. That was the supreme test, and those who lived in Missouri from that time to this have long since forgiven the old state for its one great blunder.

The wooden bridges built across the streams of Linn county failed to stand the test of a tremendous heavy rainfall that occurred in the year 1856. With one exception every bridge in the county was washed down stream. The loss was not great, because the structures were cheap affairs, but the experience taught a valuable lesson in bridge building and thereafter the County Court adopted a policy of bulling stronger bridges.

From 1840 to 1860 Linn county kept abreast of other counties in Missouri in development and increase of population. In 1840 the tax levy was a little over $700, and in 1860 it was over $9,000. The county's progress was steadily onward up to the Civil War. That unfortunate event retarded the growth in all communities, and Linn county suffered with the rest.

There was a proposition advanced in 1867 to organize a new county, to be known as Grant county and to be formed from portions of Linn, Macon and Chariton counties. Bucklin, a thriving village, was designated as the county seat. There were many friends to the scheme, but it was never carried through.

The fall of that year was noted for many prairie fires occurring in various parts of the county. These fires were particularly destructive in the neighborhood of Brookfield. Many farmers sustained heavy losses on hay, grain, fences, etc. John Ryan, who lived near Bucklin, lost his house, barn and much other property from these disastrous fires. The railroad company also suffered greatly because of them, as it was hard to keep the locomotives from emitting sparks on the grades, and many suits were brought against the company for fire

From the year 1870 Linn county's growth was in about the same ratio as that of the state. Brookfield, from a town of 1,156 in 1868, has developed into an important railroad center with a population of 5,749 (census 1910). It is the commercial metropolis of the county.

Marceline, a town which sprang into life with the building of the Santa Fe railroad in 1887, is the division point of the great Santa Fe double track system between Kansas City and Ft. Madison, and has a population of 3,920. The population of other important towns of Linn county, according to the census of 1910, is as follows: Linneus, the

A severe wind and liail storm visited Linn county the night of June 18, 1875. The storm continued throughout the following day and did immense damage throughout the county, especially in the vicinity of Laclede. So terrific was the wind that the people in some of the towns took refuge in cellars and basements. Many roofs were blown from houses and bams and the streets were filled with dismantled trees and foliage. Great damage was done to crops and fencing. Some of those who passed through the storm declare that they found hailstones as large as walnuts.

That same year Missouri was visited by a great drought and hard on the heels of it came the grasshoppers in countless swarms. So great was the disaster wrought to crops by the insects that Governor Hardin, at the behest of a great many good people all over the state, issued a proclamation for prayers. This proclamation was as follows :

"Whereas, owing to failure and loss of crops much suffering has been endured by many of our people during the past few months, and similar calamities are pending upon larger communities, and probably may extend to the whole state, and if not abated will eventuate in sore distress and famiae:

"Wherefore, Be it known that the 3d day of June, proximo, is hereby appointed and set apart as a day of fasting and prayer that Almighty God may be invoked to remove from our midst these impending calamities and to grant instead the blessings of abundance and l^lenty; and the people and all of the officers of the state are hereby requested to desist during that day from their usual employments and to assemble at their places of worship for humble and devout prayer, and to otherwise observe the day as one for fasting and prayer.

The proclamation of Governor Hardin was universally respected throughout Missouri. As a result of the faith shown by the inhabitants the record says:

"On the very next day heavy rains set in. Up to that time the long continued drought had been general in Missouri, though slight rains had fallen in the spring months of 1875. Since the proclamation and its observance, however, the rains became heavy and frequent.

"The grasshoppers began to go about June 11. A strong southwest-wind drove them forth into the interior of the state, but in a day or two the wind swept to the east, and by the 15th the pests, which had so long been threatening the farmers of Missouri, were entirely gone. The next year they came again, but did no damage, and since that time they have not appeared. The farmers began at once to retrieve their losses. They planted the crops again and, the season being favorable from that time on, the yield was bountiful."

The grasshoppers started on their visit to Missouri from the mountains in 1874. It is said that their numbers were so great that they almost darkened the heavens. They quickly overran Colorado, passed on through Kansas, and in the summer of 1875 invaded Missouri. The farmers planted their corn, but it was devoured as fast as it came up. They planted it again, hoping that the grasshoppers would leave, but when the corn began to appear above the soil the voracious insects were there and blighted it as if swept by a forest fire. All sorts of expedients were resorted to in the hopes of getting rid of the plague. Trenches were dug around fields, bonfires built so that the heat and smoke would drift against the insects, but still the grasshoppers held grimly on, the records tell us, until Governor Hardin's proclamation was acted upon.

The back taxes due and uncollected in Linn county on January 1, 1878, amoamted to $6,000. This included the taxes left unpaid at the close of the Civil War. Many other Missouri counties were in the same predicament and strong efforts were made to round up the delinquents. As far along as 1882 there was still due quite a sum from the delinquents' list. Of later years, however, a regular county collector has been put on the job and under an efficient back tax law his work is much more satisfactory than that accomplished in the early days of the county's history.

In a historj^ of Linn county printed in 1882 is this curious statement of what was known as the "Rat Plague" : "Some five years ago north Missouri was infested with an army of rats. Thej' seemed to exist everywhere and were terribly destructive. The legislature in the winter of 1876-77 authorized the counties which were overrun with them to pay 5 cents per head when presented to the number of fifty and

As Linn county was in the "rat belt," the true statement of the rat law and its operations, as given by the author. Judge Samuel Davis, of Marshall, Missouri, may be of interest here :

"Nobody has ever printed that rat story of mine just right," remarked Judge Davis in a recent interview with the writer. "It was bad enough as it was, and I've been trying these many years to help forget it, but every now and then it pops up somewhere, and the writers accuse me of doing things of which no sane man would think of doing. Said I run on a platform, pledging that I would get a law passed making it unconstitutional for a man to have a rat about his place, and that is why I was elected. I plead not guilty. But I was the cause of the rat bill passing, and through my efforts it was the law of this state for eleven years. I was in the house, though, before I framed my bill. Am I talking too fast for you?

"As the boys would say nowadays, the rats were a 'fierce proposition' in some parts of Missouri that year. All the plagues of Egypt would be as 'flinch' to poker in comparison. When a man would get up of a morning he would have to shake the rats out of his clothesi. They were so thick in the fields that horses would mire to their knees in the holes the rats made. They climbed up on corn stalks, ate the grain; scampered along rail fences and played hide-and-seek around the trees. At nights they chased each other across the floor until sleep was impossible. Even in broad daylight they would gnaw their way into cupboards, kitchen safes and boxes. Housewives had to use the most extraordinary precautions to save the food supplies from them. The least chance to get in the rats were Johnnie-on-the-Spot, and once in they left nothing.

""Wliile the rats were trying to clean out Saline and neighboring counties my friends elected me to the legislature. I was very yoimg then, and, of course, anxious for a chance to do something for my state. Every man down there seemed to have a pocketful of bills to regulate the universe, just as they do now. One day while talking with Senator Sam Majors I said I believed I would put in a bill to wipe out the rats, at the same time explaining how bad they were over my way. Sam laughed good-naturedly and told me to shoot ahead; he didn't like rats much himself. He never thought I'd do it, I reckon.

"It got talked around about the capital that Sam Davis from Saline was going to outlaw the rats and the newspaper boys made a good deal of sport over it. It went on for several days, and then they began to guy me ; said I was afraid to introduce my rat bill. I resolved to show 'em. There was an old statute about gophers and I took it and changed it to rats and wrote out my bill. In order that no harm could come to any of the counties I made the bill provide that rat scalps would be paid for at 5 cents per head only when delivered by one person in quantities of fifty and that it was optional with the county courts whether the offer was made or not. If the county court didn't want to go into the rat market it didn't have to; that was the safeguard.

"The bill was referred to the agricultural committee, and I supposed that would be the last of it. But lo ! and behold, one morning the chairman of the committee came to me and said:

"That put it up to me to get it through. When I prepared it I intended it as a joke, but after the committee had endorsed it, why, of course that meant for me to get busy. So I went to work on the members of the house and the result was my bill went through all right.

' ' The next fight would be in the senate. I learned from the chairman that Sam Majors was going to kill the bill by adding a whole lot of amendments to it, providing a reward for the scalps of cockroaches, mosquitoes and all sorts of insects. The president of the senate was a friend of mine and I told him to declare all those fool amendments out of order. He did so and after some little fighting the bill was passed. Then it went to Governor Phelps for his signature.

" 'Now, look here. Governor,' I said, 'you know I have always been your friend in the house and I have never let them pass a bill over your veto. I am in earnest about this rat bill; the boys have been guying me and I have got to get it through ; my people expect it and they must have it. I am going to still be your friend. Governor, but that rat bill wants to become a law.'

"Sam Davis, member from Saline, A-plodding home one night was seen By two old rats - forlorn and gray, Too shrewd to venture out by day. But with the moonlight's doleful hour They sought what they might best devour.

" 'Have you not heard the mandate hurled Down from the house into the world? That sets a price upon your head? That pays a bonus for rats dead? How comes it, then, that up and down You saunter through this hostile town?'

"One old rat the solon eyed And in a squeaking voice replied : 'Why question us? The law applies To rats of eveiy age and size. Now tell me, is there - answer true - An older, bigger rat than you?' "

"So you see," his honor went on, "it would never have done to let go my bill under fire like that, and what others were printing. I intended to show 'em they couldn 't laugh mj^ bill out of court.

"The bill became a law, and, do you know, before the first copy of the Eevised Statutes landed in Saline county every blamed rat picked up his grip and lit out! It's a fact, and our county court never paid out a nickel for scalps! But over in Bates and Andrews, where the rats were just as thick as they had been in Saline, the courts took the law as mandatory, and issued a notice offering a reward of 5 cents per. People quit farming to kill rats. Boys by the hundreds began chasing down the little terrors, killing and scalping them for the county. They said it got so bad in the court houses, where the evidence was stored, that people across the street had to keep their front doors shut and windows down. Then with characteristic thrift the Jayhawkers began raising rats for scalps and selling 'em to the Missouri county courts as the home-grown article. They even fetched rat scalps down from Iowa so as not to let the market go unsupplied. I guess in time they'd have started rat farms in China, but the two counties offering the bounty went broke, and that killed the industry. When next election rolled around they sent representatives to Jefferson City pledged to kill my rat bill - or me. They didn't do either. My reputation was at stake on that bill, and I didn't propose to have it declared unconstitutional. I went to the capital and labored with my friends until they became convinced the rat law was altogether proper and a vitally necessary act of legislation. It was pointed out to those sent to annihilate it that they didn't have to buy rat scalps unless they wanted to - information rather late to be useful, but yet it was at hand when the bill passed had they looked closer. Here's the way the bill read:

" 'It is hereby lawful for any county court in the State of Missouri to offer a reward not exceeding 5 cents per scalp for the destruction of rats. . . . Provided, that no reward shall be paid for any number of rats less than fifty.' Revised Statutes '79.

"It simply meant that it was lawful to offer the bounty if the county court desired to do so. It didn't have to do it. The scalps were to be delivered to the county clerk, who after counting them would issue a voucher on the treasurer.

' ' Champ Clark finally got in the legislature and he put my rat law out of business. It had been on the books eleven years, however, and I was satisfied.

"The rat bill gave me a reputation I've been trying to live down. The story that I started to brain a man who called at my house one day and tried to sell a 'Sam Davis Rat Trap' is a campaign lie. He never got that close to me - more's the pity. He lived in Vermont or some other foreign country and wrote to state that he had invented a suredeath-to-rats trap, the best thing ever made, and if I would let him name it after me I would get a royalty on the sales. He was wise in writing.

"One day a farmer friend of Ed Barton's visited the state capital and was shown through all the buildings of interest. Barton took him to the state house, the governor's mansion, the penitentiary and every