Bannatt Family

DANNATT, BOWER

Posted By: Nettie Mae (email)
Date: 10/4/2003 at 08:16:46

[This article appeared in the Clinton Herald, Saturday, Sept. 20, 1930, page 3.]

OWN SAME FARM NEAR LOW MOOR SINCE YEAR 1856
Robert John Dannatt was but nine years of age when his father, Thomas B. (Butcher) Dannatt, came to America from Killingsholm, Lincolnshire, England, but he can look back along the years and realize that the farm at Low Moor corners is still in the family--that farm which was the reason for their coming across the ocean.
The Dannatts have been given to the same names, so when another Thomas Dannatt came he received the sobriquet of Thomas (Saddler) Dannatt, and so they have been known for a generation around Low Moor. Thomas Bower, who was the material grandfather of Robert John, wrote them from his vantage point in Iowa, in 1856, that there was fine farm land to be acquired here. He knew of 320 acres that could be bought on a land grant free at 85 cents an acre. Immediately Tom, the Butcher, sent the money, for the property was obtainable on the old soldiers' land grant bill. Then he came with his family, on a steamer to be sure, but it took four weeks to make the journey at that. The reason the boy, young Robert John, knew that there were four Sundays was because on Sundays they had extra good food.
When the family came to Low Moor there was a wee bit of a station, for the railroad was being built into Iowa from Clinton, and all about the station was low land. It has been drained since. There was no side track and when these eager farmers had a car load of wheat or a car of stock, it would be loaded and then pulled down to the depot by horse power. Low Moor, under this sturdy regime of English farmers, fast developed into a fine shipping center. Feeders were brought in from all parts of Eden township and Elvira was also a contributor, but Mr. Dannatt remembers the days when he drove hogs to Clinton. Hogs were ornery creatures, he says, and would make a lot of trouble, especially if there was a bridge along the way, or anything a little different to be crossed. The boys would have to go to the leaders of the drove, pick one up in their arms and carry it across the bridge, or the ditch or the obstacle. Then the rest would follow. The worst thing the hogs would do when they came to such a place would be to turn and start back. With sheep it was different. Sheep would run away and occasioned many troublesome journeys.
Mr. Dannatt remembers one doughty farmer, John Morris, who would drive his cattle from the farm between Elvira and Clinton, to Low Moor, making the journey on one of his trusty horses.
Not a Lonely Place
Low Moor was not a lonesome place in those early days. There were five boys in the family, Robert John, the eldest; Thomas, Joseph, Fred and Walter, and the oldest and the youngest are the two who are left. In the summer their greatest excitement was when the circus came. In the winter there were dances and a family of five young men soon became quite popular. But they did their pioneering and did not have all play. It was all wild land that the Dannatts and the Bowers bought. Never a plough had turned a furrow, not a fence was seen anywhere about, yet they never used ox teams for breaking the tough prairie sod.
There were horses a-plenty on these farms. Looking back in memory Mr. Dannatt recalls that the majority of the farm hands were either German or English, that they would begin the day's work at 4 o'clock and carry on until a stint was done. After the Civil war parlous days came upon them. The returned soldiers who went on the farms had their own ideas of independence and one of these was their demand for free liquor. On the Dannatt farm 44 gallons of whiskey a month was the portion of the men, the head of the family journeying to the distillery at Camanche for the liquor. The men had their drink at breakfast time, at noon, at lunch in the middle of the long afternoon and again at the supper hour.
In those early days the housewife cooked for her always large family and also attended to the churning of the butter. Every farm boasted a few milch cows. The butter and eggs were hers to take to town to trade for groceries and calico and other things from the general store. Now everything is shipped from the farm, the automobile takes the farmer and his produce on easy jaunts to the city, and the only objection is that the water pumping engine, when it runs, interferes with the radio.