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- Ross-Bassett Story
(An account of pioneer days in Dakota)
By Mrs. L.V. (Mary E. Ross) Coulter
My father, William Cashes Ross, and my mother, Clara Bassett, were
married in the year 1872 at Kirksville, Missouri. They then came with father's
father and mother, namely William Ross and Nancy Jane Molineaux Ross, to
Minnesota, where father's folks settled on land near the city of Minneapolis.
To father and mother, who were both courageous and ambitious, came word of
alluring opportunities out in the new land of the Dakotas. So father ventured
west to Dakota Territory, squatting on land where the city of Grand Forks,
North Dakota now stands. This was the year of 1878. There father built a claim
shanty 12' by 14', near the Great Northern right-of-way, for James J. Hill was
then making a survey for his railroad.
It was there on June 2nd, 1879 that the writer of this story, Mary
Edna Ross, was born and spent her earliest childhood. Some memories of those
early days remain; how, as the work on the railroad progressed, mother allowed
us children to stand on a table and look through our one small window to watch
our father as he worked along the railroad as section boss. Another time he
was running an engine, perhaps of a work-train or switch-engine, I cannot be
sure. He was mechanic and a blacksmith, having learned his trade in Missouri.
Mother and father were now blessed with three children, their second
child, Emilie, having been called by our Heavenly Father, and she was laid to
rest at Grand Forks, Dakota Territory. Mother was a Christian and would say,
"Thy will be done." She taught us to sing the songs she loved by the
firelight of our stove, or the light of the moon which shone through our
unblinded windows.
Father soon moved to Turtle River and on March 15, 1886, another son,
Clarence was born. From there we moved by team to Manvel, North Dakota, where
father worked for some time in a sawmill.
By now the railroad was building west. Father did not want to lose out
letting too many go ahead of him. Again he loaded the family possession
Among these was a sort of cupboard with screened doors known as a milk safe,
which mother felt could just as well be left behind, as she did not thi
there would be cows in the region where they were going. Father argued the
safe might come in handy and he had his way.
Father had heard of Devils Lake and had received a newspaper printed
at Villard, Dakota Territory, so thither he was bound. We arrived at Villard
after days and days of travel. While the horses drank from a creek, father
walked up the hill where a man stood in the door of a shanty. Seeing him he
called, "Hi, sir, how far to Villard?" The man smiled and said, "This is
Villard." He continued, "It belongs to me. Bring your family and come over."
So father called back to mother and she climbed down, and with all the little
flock walked up to the cabin, there to meet the editor of "The Villard
Leader", whose name was R.H. Copeland. He advised father to continue on to
Minot, so we camped there that night and moved on the next day. It was very
hot weather, and trouble was forthcoming for one of our horses took sick and
died. Very well I remember that mother shed a few tears. Father asked her if
she wanted to go back home, but she only shook her head and said, "Let's rest
here awhile." So a small tent was pitched on a lake shore.
It was while we were there that some discouraged folks who were headed
east came upon us and, as father always said, we "struck up an acquaintance."
While they had no horses to trade, they did have an old ox, well broke to work
with a horse. Then and there did the milk safe prove its worth. These folks
wanted the milk safe and father wanted the ox, so the trade was made, and we
were on our way again. A day or two farther on we came upon some settlers with
some ponies. They were not "broke" to drive, but they wanted father's ox, and
so another trade was made.
In those days a good many teams were freighting between Minot a
Bismarck. One of them met us, and in talking to the driver, father learned
that they were badly in need of a blacksmith at Minot. So then and there he
left mother with the covered wagon and family, and rode one of the horses to
Minot, telling us he would send someone to bring us in. This, of course, took
a day or two. As if it were yesterday, I recall just how the man looked as
he rode up to our wagon and said, "Mrs. Ross, you must be a brave woman
Mother smiled and agreed with him, and in a day or two we arrived at Minot
late at night. I was awakened by mother saying, "Wake up, dear, and see your
father. He is shoeing horses." Just at the same moment I got the sme
food, for someone was cooking supper for us, using the same fire at whi
father worked while he was shoeing horses. A lean-to had already been built on
the side of this shop. It was of boards, inch thick lumber, and covered with
tar paper. The next morning a floor was laid and we moved in. No sooner was
this accomplished than mother was called on by some railroad overseer w
came to ask her if she would bake bread to help feed the men then at work on
the railroad. So two large sheet iron stoves were moved in, and mother began
the task of baking night and day. I remember she used the bottom half of two
flour barrels for mixing pans. This she continued to do until one May morning
in 1887 when a little daughter was born to her. While mother was still
confined to her bed, Minot had its first fire. It was a serious one, for it
burned almost every small business house along the street.
By this time father had been appointed to the office of sheriff, and
had moved the family into a more substantial frame building. A heavy post had
been put through the floor into the ground in the center of this one-ro
building. It served a double purpose, for while it supported the roof, at the
same time it was used as a hitching post for such prisoners as were of a
desperate type. Here they would be chained both hand and foot. At night father
went to bed with them chained to himself; for as yet, Minot had no jail. When
friends asked mother if she weren't afraid, she would say, "Oh, no, men have
lots of respect for little children." The Indians at that time were not to be
trusted. And, while they were the cause of many anxious days and nights, no
harm ever came to us from them. Mother felt the Indians were quite considerate
because they took only about one-half of whatever food they found. For
instance if there were two loaves of bread, they took one, and with gestures,
explained, "One for you, and one for me."
Father soon tired of Minot as a home. The stockmen were now gaining
way, and he was induced to take charge of a large band of sheep some thirty-five
miles southeast of Minot, out yonder in the region of what is now Velva. So
again we were off in our covered wagon, bound for a new home, this time in a
log cabin on the Mitchell Ranch. It was a bitter cold winter, and feed and
water were scarce. The sheep died by the hundreds, and by spring father had
had enough of the sheep business. However, some stockmen living along t
Mouse River persuaded him to take some five hundred head of cattle to a summer
camp at some distance, in order to save the hay and feed along the river for
the winter time. So again we were on our way.
This time a wagon load of lumber with which to build a house
accompanied us. Father and my brothers drove the cattle. It was only a two-day
trip to the new location known as Cottonwood Lake, about seven miles north of
Dogden (now known as Butte). In the lake there was quite a large island. Thus
we would have protection from the cattle in case there should be a stampede.
It proved to be a beautiful home spot, and mother and we children were
extremely happy there.
On the island there was quite a variety of wild fruits, and the wild
songbirds and game. We caught some young wild geese, clipped their wings and
tamed them. We had a rowboat which we used to cross the lake to a spring for
all our drinking water. On our way we could catch fish for dinner. We made
pets of the sand hill cranes which followed us about like pet dogs, and
usually called us early in the mornings. We were up at daybreak and to bed at
dark. A lamp was never lit unless someone became ill during the night; which
was seldom indeed. Summer, as mother said, passed all too soon. The bleak cold
weather of fall came on. It was time to go the twenty-five miles to winter
range at a place known as Pendroy, which, by the way, was the post office at
which we had gotten our mail through the summer months.
We lived that winter on the bank of the Mouse River in a large one-
room house, and we children walked about two miles to school. In 1890, along
with the March winds, came another little sister. Times were very hard and
father decided he better head back to Minot, where he might get wor
When we were settled again in Minot, father became ill from a wound he
received when shoeing horses, and was unable to work until late in the summer.
He then went east to earn what he could in the harvest fields for the winter.
When harvest was over, he came home suffering great pain all the time. Mother
persuaded him to go to Grand Forks, North Dakota (North Dakota had become a
state in 1889) for medical aid. There Dr. H. M. Wheeler operated on his limb,
and after a time he came home, only to suffer much the same as befor
In July, 1891, we had the added happiness of another little sister who
came to live with us. That autumn father decided we could not live in Minot
where there was rent to pay and other expenses of living in town. So he moved
us twenty-five miles east of Minot to a log cabin on the bank of the Mouse
River. This cabin was large and had two windows, but only a dirt floor. But
that made little difference, for there was plenty of wood to burn, water to
use and fish and wild game a-plenty. Again father took care of sheep belonging
to the First National Bank of Minot, and so we lived on.
There was a school about one mile from our home, which we attended. In
this school there was a teacher and about fifteen scholars, with five little
Rosses making up the number.
During the summer of 1892, the Soo Railroad came up the valley past
our home. This brought with it lots of excitement and made life more
interesting for mother and all of us. About one and a half miles from us a
town was started which was named Velva. That fall, an epidemic of typhoid fever
broke out at Minot, and father went here to help nurse county patients. Mother
and we children, with a sheep herder were left to care for home and the sheep.
Nothing very exciting ever happened in our little household.
Mother received lots of letters from her home back east, and sometimes
a package would come with some little treat for us all. We children would look
forward to those packages so much that we would walk day after day to the post
office, only to come home disappointed and some days almost frozen. On one of
those occasions mother comforted us by telling us not to give up, for there
would be a package for us in a few days. Full well she knew, for on December
5th, 1892, she gave birth to a son who was named Henry Ernest. Oh, wh
package of joy, for we were tiring of baby sisters. Our much loved baby
brother was about a month old before father ever saw him. Father was very fond
of his little ones, but inclined to be gruff in his speech. Looking at the new
baby boy, he said, "Hey, there, soldier, how did you get here?". This of
course amused us all. Little did mother or father know then or even dream that
in time this son would grow to manhood, and then one day he would enlist in
the World War as a soldier with the United States Marine Corps, there to serve
and finally on August 28th, 1919, give his life by drowning in the Artibonite
River in Haiti, where troops had been retained to keep order even after the
Armistice was signed. Henry Ernest Ross enlisted at Billings, Montana and at
the time of his tragic death was with the 36th Company, 2nd Regiment, U.S.
Marine Corps. His last address was Port au Prince, Haiti. Mother was spared
this great sorrow as she was called to her Heavenly home when he was but five
years of age. In the mean time, two more little sisters had come, and when the
youngest was ten days old, mother was called from her earthly home, On October
14th, 1897.
Clara Bassett Ross was the daughter of Robert Bassett and Mary
Elizabeth Farlin Bassett. They were of New England stock. Tradition has it
that there was a Bassett on the "Mayflower", and afterwards large numbers of
that name came to America on the good ship "Fortune". Robert Bassett lost his
mother in his infancy, and his father when a boy of seven. He grew to manhood
in Granger and Lincoln County, Ohio. Then he went to Athens County where he
met and married Mary Farlin. Both were of Scotch ancestry, and of strong
Christian faith. They raised a large family and are resting now in a cemetery
at Kirksville, Missouri.
William Ross was the oldest son of William Ross and Nancy Jane Ross.
The Ross family originally came from Scotland, and settled in Ireland where
Grandfather William Ross was born and grew to manhood. He then came to America
and, at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on the 27th day of October, 1840, in
accordance with the law, he became a citizen of the United States. William Ross
and Nancy Jane Ross reared a large family. They were of the Presbyterian
Church, lived for many years at Minneapolis, Minnesota, and are buried there
in Lakewood Cemetery. My mother, Clara Bassett Ross, died October 14th, 1897
at Williston, North Dakota, and is buried at Williston in the Riverview
Cemetery. On her tombstone there has been inscribed the name of her soldier
son, Henry Ernest Ross, whose body was never recovered from the water. Father
had moved his family to Williston, North Dakota in 1895.
After mother's death he went west to Montana, then on to Washington,
where he spent the last twenty years of his life in the employ of McCleary
Brothers Lumber Company. There he married again, and in 1920, at about the age
of eighty-two passed away and is buried in McCleary, Washingto
Twelve children were born to my parents. Six of them are now living.
I am the oldest of these, and have written out this record of their lives as a
tribute to my parents who suffered many hardships along with other pioneers.
Through it all they did not complain but carried on with the fine courage that
urged them always to do their best. I have also had in mind to honor my
brother, Henry Ernest, as a son of early pioneers of the Dakotas, a devoted
soldier, who, in the end, gave his life in the service of his country. In his
memory I was included on the Gold Star Mother's pilgrimage to the battlefields
of France and scenes of the World War, sailing on the "Roosevelt" on August
19, 1931, and returning in October on the "George Washington". Because of my
brother's service, I am a member of the Auxiliary of the Edgar M. Boyd Post of
the American Legion at Williston, North Dakota.
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Bassett Family Association Database
1879 - 1961 (81 years)