Breaking prairie

Securing land was only the first step in a long process of establishing a farm. This was virgin prairie that had never before been tilled, nothing but grassland from one end to the other. After Peter D and Sarah purchased their 80 acres, they had to prepare the ground for the planting of crops. They, like all other early settlers, had to “break prairie.”

Sources describing what this involved are varied and stretch across several decades and geographical locations, from Illinois to Nebraska. In spite of differences in details revealed in specific places and times, the goal and general process of breaking prairie remained the same. These contemporary accounts provide us a window on the demands and challenges presented by those who attempted to turn uncultivated prairie into fertile farmland. We begin with a brief letter to the editor of The Prairie Farmer that appeared in the June 1844 issue of the magazine (4:139):

Note the oxen breaking prairie in the left foreground.

EARLY PRAIRIE BREAKING.

To the Editors of the Prairie Farmer: It being near the time of breaking prairie and willing that my experience so far as it goes may be of benefit to those about to enter our Prairie State [Illinois] as cultivators of the soil as well as all others, I give you the result thereof. In May, 1840, I had a few acres of prairie broke, and afterwards about the 1st of August, I had the balance of the field broken. I planted corn on the part broke in May which was about as good a crop as usual. I sowed the whole to wheat, in the fall rather late, say about the 1st of October, using the harrow to put it in. Next season the crop on that broke in May was middling while that on the late breaking was not worth harvesting. I have raised a crop on this land every year since. The early breaking invariably fetching a good crop and the late not more than half a one, last spring. I planted corn on both, the crop on the late breaking was an entire failure owing to the extreme drought of the season, while that on the early breaking was excellent.

Again last May, 1843, about the 20th, I had some prairie broke four inches deep, and about the middle of June some more broken about two and half inches deep, I sowed wheat on the deep and shallow breaking about the 1st of September, putting it in with the harrow. The wheat on both looked equally well during the fall and early part of winter. This spring the shallow breaking looks the best, the cause I conjecture, being that the shallow breaking was much torn up by the harrow, and thus affording a chance for the wheat to take a deeper root, while the sod on the deep breaking was totally unmoved by the harrow, although the seed seemed to be perfectly covered. I have cross plowed some of this last breaking to put a crop in this spring, that is, some of that part that was broken four inches deep, and find that the grass roots are nearly as well rotted as that broken in August, 1840, some of which I have also plowed this spring. I shall leave your readers to make their own inferences. Observer. 

Two points are worthy of particular note in “Observer’s” account: (1) when one broke prairie was significant and often affected the yield of especially the first crop; (2) the depth at which one plowed was also important; the deep plowing familiar to most eastern farmers of that period was not necessarily effective with virgin prairie.

A second account comes from eight years later (1852) and a little farther west, Keokuk, Iowa. In this longer description W. G. Edmundson sought to correct certain misconceptions about breaking prairie. The article appeared in the February 1852 issue of The Cultivator (9:67):

Many false impressions have gone forth among the eastern farmers, in regard to the expense of breaking a prairie sod; and to those who may contemplate removing to a prairie country, a few facts exemplifying the method of executing this work, and its average cost, when done by contract, might be found interesting. It is a very common practice throughout the entire western prairie country, to get the sod broken by contract, at a given price per acre, which ranges from S1.50 to $2.50 according to the character of the work, and the local influences governing the value of labor. The plow mostly used in breaking sod, turns a furrow two feet wide, and in some cases as high as thirty inches are turned, but the average may be rated at eighteen inches, requiring three yoke of oxen to do the work with ease. From two to three acres per day are plowed with an ox team, requiring one man to hold the plow, and another to drive. Tolerably good wages are made, at an average of two dollars per acre; and when all things are considered it cannot be said that it costs more to break up a prairie sod, than to plow an old meadow in one of the eastern or northern states. From two and a half to three inches, is the usual depth that the soil is broken, and the thinner it is plowed the better, so long as the vitality of the roots of the grass is destroyed. Advocates of deep plowing would not find their theory to work well, in breaking up prairie, from the fact that the thinner it is plowed the sooner will the roots of the grass undergo decomposition. When once broken, the case becomes altered. So soon as the first crop is harvested, deep plowing is no where productive of more favorable influence than on a rich, vegetable prairie soil, recently brought into cultivation.

In breaking prairie sod for corn, the work is sometimes done late in autumn, but more frequently it is performed in the spring, and the corn is planted immediately upon the inverted sod, in rows along the interstices of every alternate furrow. A small hole is cut in the sod with an old axe, or a grubbing hoe, in which the seed is deposited, and covered; and the crop from that time forward, receives no cultivation, or attention, till it is matured, ready for harvest. The average yield by this management, ranges from twenty to fifty bushels per acre; and about thirty-five bushels may be a fairly computed product, when the work is done in good season, and in a creditable manner. The extreme toughness of the unrotted sod, precludes the possibility of working the crop, and indeed nature herself wisely provides for the extermination of the wild grasses and plants, that so profusely spread over the prairie surface, requiring only on the part of the husbandman, a single plowing, by which the soil becomes divested of every species of herbage except such as may be planted by the hand of man. …

The best month in the year for breaking prairie is June, and when it is intended to sow the land with wheat, it is advisable to have the work executed at as early a period as this month, so that the sod may obtain a perfect rot before the period for seeding. In some cases the land is plowed a second time, and some prefer doing it crosswise of the furrow, and others lengthwise; but it is universally conceded that if the rot be perfect, so that a heavy harrow will completely pulverize it, the second plowing will not contribute in increasing the product of the wheat crop, and, therefore, only one plowing is usually given. …

In Illinois and Iowa, and Upper Missouri, the finest and most perfect plows are in use, and indeed some of the patterns could scarcely be improved, either in lessening the draft, or rendering the work more easy for the plowman. The strength of this conviction became increased by repeated practical trials, and after giving the matter a full and impartial investigation, we became convinced that a prairie sod had no equal as a test, to put to trial the skill of a scientific plowman; and that some of the most improved steel mould-board plows were so perfectly adapted to the character of the work, that any further attempt at improvement would be abortive. The best plows are suspended on two wheels, supported by an axle near the end of the beam. The wheels are twelve inches broad on the surface, the one following in the furrow guides the width of the furrow slice, and the one on the sod acts as a roller to break and smooth down the prairie grass. By the aid of a lever the wheels are hoisted up, so as to expedite the turning of the plow at the head lands, and the only thing the plowman has to do, is to set the plow at the turnings, as the wheels guide it quite as perfectly as could be done by the most experienced plowman.

A 1902 account by L. S. Coffin is accompanied by a drawing of a breaking plow from the 1850s; one would think that it corresponded in general design to those used in Peter D and Sarah’s time.

All attempts to present a word picture of it [a prairie breaking plow] must fail to give any person who has never seen one a true idea of the real thing. These plows, as a rule, were very large. They were made to cut and turn a furrow from twenty to thirty inches wide and sometimes even wider. The beam was a straight stick of strong timber seven to twelve feet long. The forward end of this beam was carried by a pair of trucks or wheels, and into the top of the axle of these wheels were framed two stout, upright pieces just far enough apart to allow the forward end of the plow-beam to nicely fit in between them. To the forward end of the beam and on top of it, there was fastened by a link or clevis, a long lever, running between these stout standards in the axle of the trucks, and fastened to them by a strong bolt running through both standards and lever; this bolt, acting as a fulcrum for the lever, was in easy reach of the man having charge of the plow. By raising or depressing the rear end of this lever the depth of the furrow was gauged, and by depressing the lever low enough, the plow could be thrown entirely out of the ground. One of the wheels of the truck ran in the furrow and was from two to four inches larger than the one that ran on the sod. This, of course, was necessary so as to have an even level rest for the forward end of the plow-beam. The mould-boards of these plows were sometimes made of wood protected by narrow strips of steel or band-iron, and fastened to the mould-board. In some cases these mould-boards were made entirely of iron rods, which generally gave the best satisfaction. The share of these plows—“shear,” as we western folks called it—had to be made of the very best steel so as to carry a keen edge. The original prairie sod was one web of small tough roots, and hence the necessity of a razor- like edge on the “shear” to secure good work and ease to the team.

And next, the “prairie-breaking” plow team? Who sees the like of it today? A string of from three to six yokes of oxen hitched to this long plow-beam, the driver clad in somewhat of a cowboy style, and armed with a whip, the handle of which resembled a long, slender fishing-rod, with a lash that when wielded by an expert was so severe that the oxen had learned to fear it as much as the New England oxen did the Yankee ox-goad with its brad.

The season for “breaking prairie” varied as the spring and summer were early or late, wet or dry. The best results were had by beginning to plow after the grass had a pretty good start, and quitting the work some time before it was ready for the scythe. The main object aimed at was to secure as complete a rotting of the sod as possible. To this end the plow was gauged to cut only one and one-half to two inches deep. Then, if the mould-board was so shaped as to “kink” the sod as it was turned over, all the better, as in the early days of “prairie-breaking” very little use was made of the ground the first year. The object was to have the land in as good a shape as possible for sowing wheat the following spring. A dry season, thin breaking, “kinky” furrows, and not too long breaking accomplished this, and made the putting in of wheat the following spring an easy task. But on the contrary, if broken too deeply, and the furrows laid flat and smooth, or in a wet season, or if broken too late, the job of seeding the wheat on tough sod was a hard and slow one. …

Three yokes of good-sized oxen drawing a 24-inch plow, with two men to manage the work, would ordinarily break about two acres a day; five yokes with a 36-inch plow, requiring no more men to “run the machine,” would break three acres a day. When the plow was kept running continuously, the “shear” had to be taken to the blacksmith as often as once a week to be drawn out thin, so that a keen knife-edge could be easily put on it with a file, by the men who managed the plow. If the team was going around an 80-acre tract of prairie, the “lay" or "shear” had to be filed after each round to do the best work. The skillful “breaker” tried to run his plow one and one-half inches deep and no deeper. This was for the purpose of splitting the sod across the mass of tough fibrous roots, which had lain undisturbed for uncounted years and had formed a network of interlaced sinews as difficult to cut as india rubber, where the prairie was inclined to be wet; and it was not easy to find an entire 80-acre tract that was not intersected with numerous “sloughs,” across which the breaking-plow had to run. In many places the sod in these “sloughs” was so tough that it was with the greatest difficulty that the plow could be kept in the ground. If it ran out of the ground, this tough, leathery sod would flop back into the furrow as swiftly as the falling of a row of bricks set up on end, and the man and driver had to turn the long ribbon of tough sod over by hand—if they could not make a “balk.” In the flat, wet prairie, it sometimes took from two to three years for the tough sod to decompose sufficiently to produce a full crop. The plow had to be kept in perfect order to turn this kind of prairie sod over, and the "lay" had to have an edge as keen as a scythe to do good work. …

In some cases the “newcomers” would consent to have a portion of their prairie farms broken up in April, and on this early breaking they would plant “sod corn.” The process was simple; a man with an axe would follow the line of every second or third furrow, strike the blade deep in the ground, a boy or girl would follow and drop three or four kernels of corn into the hole and bring one foot down “right smart” on the hole in the sod, and the deed was done. No cultivation was required after planting, and in the fall a half crop of corn was frequently gathered without expense. Those who were not able to get breaking done at the best time for subduing the sod, were often glad to have some done in the latter part of July or the first half of August. So for several years the “breaking brigades” were able to run their teams for four months each year, and it was profitable business.

Another lengthy account is from a history of Seward County written in the early twentieth century (Waterman 1920, 45–47):

One of the important matters for consideration after a homesteader had located a home on the prairie was to break a few acres of sod and prepare to raise something to “keep the wolf from the door” when he got a door, and frequently the breaking plow was started before there was anything like a dwelling place provided; the family living in a tent or prairie schooner while the breaking season lasted—generally during the months of May and June. In those days everybody wanted breaking done, thousands of acres of prairie being turned over in Seward County and made into crop producing condition almost similtaneously [sic] with the rush of emigration to the county the first two years of the seventies [1870s]. But prairie breaking was no child’s play. While it is called and supposed to be plowing it is vastly different from all other kinds of plowing. The earth under prairie sod is solid and hard. The grass roots run deep and are so compact as to form almost a solid mass of very tough, woody fiber, requiring a sharp edged underground cutter running under sufficiently to cut the roots from two to three inches below the surface and not any lower. This requires a skillfully adjusted plow or it will not run and do the part required of it any more than an illadjusted clock or watch. It only requires a very small amount of improper fixing to put it in such a condition that forty ellephants [sic] could not pull it if it remains in the ground and forty more ellephants [sic] could not hold it in the ground if it wanted to come out. If the sharp edge is properly adjusted to run squarely under the sod—is not turned up nor down—it will run very nicely without a hand to guide it. After the breaker is in proper condition for work, the next requirements are, first a good, strong team to draw it, a file to keep the underground shear sharp, a hammer and an iron wedge, axe or other solid utensil to keep the edge of the shear bent in proper shape, and lastly a man, who knows how, to run it. After these requirements have been supplied the work may progress under many difficulties.

The prairie breaking period in Seward County extended from the time of its earliest settlemnt [sic] in 1860 to the close of the pioneer period, or about 1890, and during that most eventful time in the settlement of Nebraska there were many different methods brought forward in an eanest [sic] desire to facilitate the work of prairie breaking and lighten its burdens. … But it was all cut short by the running out of prairie sod, and that important early building material came to such a sudden scarcity that there was not enough good sod in Seward County to build an ordinary sod house.

In the first place the old fashioned steel moldboard was used, but many plowmen thought the suction on the long steel surface caused the plow to run very heavy, and the rod moldboard breaking plow was, invented and exensively [sic] used. Then a plow with a moldboard made with small rollers which were expected to roll under the sod and turn it over was introduced. But this was not a success as it was soon discovered that the fine sand worked into the roller bearings and cut them off. Still another invention to make the work lighther [sic] for the horses, mules and cattle, was the box breaking plow. It was made in the shape of a box without a cover. This box was made of sheet steel, the bottom being thin and sharp ran under the sod on a level and cut the roots by a direct contact with them while the sides with sharp edges cut the sod from the top down to the bottom of the furrow, the sod being turned by the rod moldboard. This plow was pronounced a success by many who used them.

The motive power in front of the breaking plows in the breaking period was the main object for consideration, but notwithstanding the heavy tug of it, the work went on steaidly [sic] until it was finished. A majority of the settlers did their breaking with only two horses while others used three or four. Occaionally [sic] three or four yokes of cattle would be seen drawing a large breaker, the furrow being so wide it would appear like wide top tables turning over. Those large ox breakers were so constructed as not to require guiding, the management of the cattle and keeping the plow sharp and in order being the principal part of the manual labor attached to the business.

Our final account is a contemporary one, from the April 1874 issue of American Agriculturist, where J. H. B. of Hastings, Nebraska, writes:

The common way of breaking prairie sod renders it necessary to plant a crop of sod corn or let the sod lie fallow until it rots, when it may be cross plowed. It is best to follow the custom of the country in this respect, especially for new beginners and those from England, where everything is so different from things here. By using two plows, one following the other, in the same furrow, the sod may be covered with mellow soil, but it is doubtful, even then, if clover or mangels would thrive the first year. The sod requires reclaiming by a process of rotting or decomposition before it is available as food for plants. We would advise you to keep the seed until next year, when you will have this year’s breaking to replow, and break all you can this spring, so as to have as large a crop of corn as possible, which will doubtless be found useful.

In the end, we do not know precisely how Peter D and Sarah broke prairie, but at least we know that they must have done so, and we have a better sense of what was involved.

• They may have broken prairie on their own with a team of horses, but it is more likely that they hired a prairie-breaking crew to perform the labor.


• The cost of hiring a crew to break their prairie was significant in comparison to the cost of the land itself. If they purchased land for $5 an acre (a typical price for central Nebraska during that time), they probably paid another $2.50 an acre (at least) to have the prairie sod broken.


• At the usual pace of two acres a day, it would have taken forty days and at least $200 for the entire farm to be made ready for cultivation. In light of this, it seems most likely that the prairie breaking stretched over several years, which brings into sharper focus the railroad’s sale terms of price reduction of 20 percent if half the farm was under cultivation within two years.


•  Peter D and Sarah may have planted sod corn immediately after breaking prairie, or they may have waited until the following year, after the sod had decomposed sufficiently, then plowed again and planted corn or wheat (or both). 

One thing is clear in all this: turning virgin prairie into fertile farmland was no easy task; it required substantial amounts of time, effort, and investment. Knowing the challenges that our ancestors faced and overcame can only deepen our admiration of and appreciation for them.

Works Cited

J. H. B. 1874. Breaking Prairie. American Agriculturist. 33:127. Available online here.

Coffin, L. S. 1902. Breaking Prairie. The Annals of Iowa. 5:447–58. Available online here.

Early Prairie Breaking. 1944. The Prairie Farmer. 4:139. Available online here.

Edmundson, W. G. 1852. Prairie Farming—Breaking the Sod. The Cultivator. 9:67. Available online here.

Waterman, John Henry. 1920. General History of Seward County, Nebraska. Rev. ed. Beaver Crossing, NE: n.p. Available online here.