The date of my birth Jan. 22, 1835, I was always told was intensely cold weather, almost equalling the famous cold Friday. In one of the years, 1845-6 or 7, there was a heavy frost May 1st, that killed all fruit and tender vegetation. Cherries were the size of large peas, and peaches almost as large. In one of those years a snow fell the last night of Nov. a foot deep and there was continuous snow on the ground till nearly April. Peach trees were all killed to about one foot above the ground, the depth of the snow. Another of those winters was very mild, and early in March, two or three inches of snow fell, and farmers continued plowing, and turning under the snow, and about May 1st, corn planting time, large quantities of this snow was found to be unmelted. March 23, 1853, peach trees were in till bloom, and we had a fine crop of fruit of all kinds, that year, as well as excellent farm crops. 1854 was very favorable spring up to June 16, had the last good rain that day, and no more till middle of Nov. This was called the great drouth year, and was surely the greatest I have known, before or since. We had fine meadows and wheat, fine corn fodder, but only about ten bushels of corn per acre, and that about all nubbins. very few real good ears. Fruit all shriveled up and pastures literally parched up. Water was distressingly scarce. Cattle lived on ragweed, and the milk from the cows was bitter. However, butter and buttermilk was very good. 1855, was the greatest crop year within my knowledge. I saw volunteer corn, large ears that grew in the fence corners, with no cultivation whatever. 1856, fair crops, but rather dry year. 1857, very wet and the coldest season I ever experienced, but good crops. This was known as the year of the great Comet, with immense tail, that was plainly visible for several months. Many people believed this the cause of the unusual cold, and wet season, and many also believed the tail of the comet would finally brush the earth and all would be consumed by fire. 1858, a dry year but fair crops. On June 16, was a frost that killed all tender vegetation. I had planted six bushels of Irish potatoes, and dug from them only two bushels.

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Thanks to Henry Hearn for providing an image of this page.
Thanks to Catherine Bradford for indexing this page.