West Liberty History 1838-1938

Source: One Hundred Years of History
* Commemorating a Century of Progress in the West Liberty Community * WEST LIBERTY, IOWA
LOG CABIN HISTORY

Chapter IX

THE DEATH OF ENOS NYCE

The pathetic incidents relating to the sickness and death of Enos Nyce were related in the presence of the writer many years ago by his wife, who long survived him, and are worthy of a place in this chronicle. It had been a hard struggle with them from the beginning of their labor here, to supply the needs of their numerous family, and at last there came a day when the meal barrel was empty and want---gaunt, gnawing want---stared in at the door and would not be driven away. There was corn in the crib, but no means to convert it into meal, and the nearest mill twelve miles away across a trackless prairie, with no beast of burden at hand. But our pioneer was stout of heart, if weak of body; and while yet the stars were bright overhead, he shouldered a sack of corn and started on foot across the trackless prairie, grown waist-high with grass and weeds and intersected by sloughs and unbridged creeks. Hour after hour he toiled on his weary way, till the mill was reached. There he rested with friends while the corn was ground and then began the tiresome journey home. While yet many miles from home the sky became overcast with clouds. Weak and weary he became bewildered, and knew not which way to go. At length when his strength was almost spent, he reached the summit of a swell of the prairie, and, far away to the southwest, he saw a belt of timber; towering high above all others was a giant tree. This tree he knew as standing on the crest of a hill but a short distance beyond his home. Taking fresh courage he toiled on. The sun went down and the twilight deepened, but now, knowing his way, he pressed on, and in the gathering darkness, reached his home and rest.

Who can tell the rejoicing of that family that night, or the anxiety of the succeeding days and weeks, and the deep anguish that was sequel of it all? Feeble as he was from disease and want, the weariness of the journey was more than he could rally from, and in but a few months he lay down on the bed from which he was never to rise. When he reached home that night, weary almost to death, with premonition strong upon him that he would never recover from his weariness, he requested his family that when the end came they would lay him to rest beneath the beacon tree; for had it not been for its friendly guidance he would never have reached his home and family. They respected his desire and when the end came a few neighbors bore his body across the valley and up the hill and left him there. The lonely widow took up he double burden and bore it nobly, as only a woman can, and lived to see her children grown to manhood and womanhood, and leading lives of usefulness.

This incident is, perhaps, no more pathetic than were many others of those times, but it came more nearly in the writer's knowledge and for that reason is inserted here. Many a time has the writer sat and listened to stories of those trying pioneer days as related by Mary Nyce, who for so long bore the weight of toil and care with such a steadfast purpose and through it all retained her patience till it became her nature. Long after the events related, when the spot was about to pass into the hands of strangers, the dust of Enos Nyce was removed to a safer rest in Oakridge cemetery, and by its side rests all that is mortal of his wife. Thus ended the lives of the first permanent settlers on the Wapsinonoc. Enos Nyce died Nov. 8, 1839, and Mary, his wife, Oct.30, 1879.

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