The history of Dubuque County, Iowa : containing a history of the county, its cities, towns, etc., Part 59

Author:
Publication date: 1880
Publisher: Chicago : Western Historical
Number of Pages: 964

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The one fatality that occurred in Dubuque City happened on these flats, not far from the railroad-shops. Mr. and Mrs. Ulrich, German or Swiss, were asleep, with their infant child either in a cradle or crib beside the bed. The parents did not waken until the cold water reached them as they lay in bed. In the darkness and confusion the father rushed through water waist-deep to the door, only to find himself surrounded by a flood that by the flashes of the lightning seemed limitless in extent. He called for help, but every neighbor was trying to save his own life amid the rushing waters, and none heard his cry, for the roaring of the storm and the rolling of the thunder. The mother reached out in the darkness for her babe, but the cradle in which it had been sleeping had overturned and spilled out the child, and probably before the parents were awake its little life had ended. The family, what was left of it, took the corpse of their dead, their only child, and found refuge with relatives

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at some distance from the scene of the disaster, and the shanty was deserted and surrounded by a sea of mud.

On the Peru road, the principal damage was that to Walker's dairy. Five buildings were swept away from here; his large new barn, his grain-house, spring-house; wagon-house and wood-house. The water made its way into the cellar of the house with such forcc as to break down the partition wall between the two cellars. It came up so as to cover the piazza floor. The inmates made every preparation to leave the house, and, had the water not stopped rising within fifteen minutes, they would have done so. The new barn was floated off bodily about three-quarters of a milc, to the race-track, and there went to pieces and scattered all over the fair grounds. A fine cow was found crushed under the barn, but it was not Mr. Walker's. He lost none of his stock except some thirty or forty fancy chickens-if that is not a "bull." William Henleben's hennery and fences were destroyed, and some two hundred chick- ens, also a number of ducks. Loss about $300. All the fences on Adam Beringer's two lots were leveled, and his garden badly washed. Three acres of corn belonging to the same man, near the fair grounds, were washed out. Loss not less than $150.

The fair grounds suffercd severely. The track, however, is not dam- aged so badly as might have been expected. It was washed a little at the upper end, and a good deal of sediment deposited at the lower end. The row of one-story stalls running up from the track directly eastward, and then turning an angle and connecting with the two-story stalls, were all demolished. The two-story barns were moved about ten feet. The trees and a good deal of the fence east of the stables were down. Twenty acres of the best hay was so completely covered with sand as not to be worth the cutting, and impossible to cut if it were. As a recompense for this, a part of the eight tons of hay that was in Walker's barn had been left on the fair grounds, the rest scattered along the flats or stuffed in the railroad culverts. The water marks in the vicinity show that the fair ground and land adjacent were covered with one unbroken sea several feet deep, from hill to hill. Sev- eral horses were in the stable at the time, but all were rescued without serious injury.

Up at Eagle Point, considerable damage was done. George Fengler lost $500 worth of wood, piled on ground that was never reached by any freshet before. In the lower part of town, "Dublin," cellars were filled, and the fol- lowing day was spent in pumping and baling out, the same as in the upper portion of the city. Dodge street, as usual got scoured and torn by the storm. At the intersection of Dodge and South Dodge streets the street was badly torn, and from that point down along the gutter culvert on the north side the damage was considerable. The kitchen and contents of Mr. Kilty's house, on Southern avenue, were swept away.

Thomas Clark's house, situated in the southwest corner of Peru Township, on the Maquoketa bottom, was destroyed.

The Alexander Anderson bridge, Julien Township, spanning a branch of the Catfish, was carried away. It was a new bridge just completed, and accepted by the county authorities the previous Saturday. It was a truss with twenty-eight feet span.

All the crops growing for miles along the bottoms of Farmer's Creek were swept away by the destructive floods. A large amount of damage was done to the farmers,

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As a farewell shot, the storm-fiend struck Richter's millinery establishment, on Couler avenue, by lightning. There was plenty of water in the vicinity, and between the proprietor and the neighbors the fire was extinguished before it had done any serious damage.

The maximum temperature was 80º. Highest wind, 12:30 in the night, 28} miles an hour. Lowest barometer, at 10 P. M., 29.75. Amount of rain- fall, 3.55 inches, and enough overflowed from the weather observer's gauge to make it at least an even four inches-an amount entirely unprecedented in this locality.

INCIDENTS.

It is many days since Dubuque was the scene of romance. The realities of life, the pursuit of liberty free from embarrassment, and happiness consequent upon its absence, has occupied the public mind, lo, these many years. Full a quarter of a century ago, the city was graced with the presence of a nomad, who, under the euphonious title of "Wild Kate," contributed volumes of fact and fiction to the daily paper, which at that time was the Miner's Express. Occasionally she would electrify the public and nearly paralyze society by assuming the role of Diana of the Ephesians, and, with all the accoutrements of that nimble huntress, go forth to slay whatever game crossed her way. Peo- ple knew her only as they saw her in public, sometimes with a gun over her beautifully symmetrical shoulder, bestride a fiery, untamed steed, galloping off for a solitary ride to unknown parts. She hunted, rode, drove and wrote; none knew whence she came or whither she went, but no one ever uttered a word of defamation against the fair name of this eccentric and handsome woman. She suddenly disappeared, leaving no record of her past nor clue to her future, but rumor has it that " Wild Kate" is the beautiful and accomplished wife of the editor of a Nashville paper, though upon what basis is predicated this conclusion is not of record.

DUBUQUE'S INFLUENCE WITH THE INDIANS,

As a reputed Canadian-Frenchman, Julien Dubuque was a full-blooded white man, and probably the only one in the colony. His followers and employes in the mines were half-breeds and Indians. During the whole time of the occupancy of his mining claim, the "Mines of Spain," as he called them, from 1788 to 1810, the Sac and Fox Indians had a large village at the mouth of Catfish Creek, about two miles below the present city of Dubuque.

Julien Dubuque's prosperity, resulting from his lead trade carried on with St. Louis, in his annual visits to that city, then the only trading-point of any consequence above New Orleans, occasionally excited the jealousy of the Indians to such a degree that they sought some pretext of ejecting him from the country by annulling the permit which had been executed in writing in 1788 by six of the chiefs, and was to continue during his lifetime. But Dubuque was one of those shrewd, ingenious men who evidently understood human nature well, and made a correct estimate of Indian character. He accordingly managed to carry on a prosperous trade with them, and, by business stratagem and an occasional display of tricks, that appeared to them to be evi- dences of superhuman power, he wrought upon their fears, excited their wonder, appealed to their cupidity and necessities to such an extent, that all their regard or dislike toward him at any time was generally mingled with awe.

During the year 1800, at a time when the Indians, from some real or imaginary cause, resolved not to allow him to encroach further on what they

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HISTORY OF DUBUQUE COUNTY.

considered their native privileges, Dubuque had his residence and other build- ings near the council-house of the Indians. Dubuque had made some demand upon the Indians which resulted in a dispute, culminating in confusion and disorder. He adjourned the parley with them from time to time, in order to devise new expedients to coax or frighten them into a compliance with his wishes. Happening to have a barrel of turpentine among his goods, he emptied the same, just after dark, on the waters of the creek, which were slug- gish, and with scarcely any perceptible current. He then built a large bonfire on the bank, and called the Indians suddenly from their lodges for consultation. When all were seated, he commenced to harangue them on the obligations they were under for benefits he had conferred, and promised more if they would grant him a single favor then asked. But the chiefs refused to yield another point in his favor, and warned him to beware of their vengeance if he persisted any longer in his demands. Dubuque instantly assumed a defiant air, and threat- ened to execute the vengeance of the Great Spirit upon them for their ingratitude. They still sat unmoved, when he seized a fire-brand, and, telling them he would burn up the creek as proof he was the Great Spirit, threw the burning ember into the stream. A sheet of flame rose instantly, and, with a shriek of terror, each Indian arose to his feet.

"Now," said Dubuque, with all the majesty he could assume, "now, if you do not yield, I will burn your creek, your canoes, your wigwams, yourselves. I will set fire to the Mississippi and burn it up. But I loved you before you hated me, and will forgive you if the Great Manitou will let me. I give you the time of only one breath to answer me ; if not, the river will burn."

The Indians fell before him, prostrate in adoration. The head chief thanked him for their lives, and granted all he asked.

This was the last of Dubuque's stratagem victories over the Indians. He asked for everything in the power of the Indians to grant ; indeed, the more he required, the more readily were his demands supplied ; and it was not until after his death that they dared to drive his followers from the soil.

It might here be stated that Dubuque was not a Canadian-Frenchman ; he was born in 1767, a few miles distant from Lyons, France.

REMINISCENCES OF AN OLD SETTLER.

Every citizen of Dubuque County knows Samuel S. Scott. During his days he has seen great changes take place in this vicinity. He has witnessed the miner's cabin give way to large store buildings and residences, and the population of the city grow from ten men and a dog to 32,000 people and 32,000 dogs. He is a great genius in his way, and has many peculiarities which, no doubt, have clung to him from the day he first set foot on Iowa soil. " How long have you inhabited this locality-can't you give us some old reminiscences ?" he was asked during a conversation had with him by the his- torian. "Well, I could talk you blind, if I chose to, but I guess I won't do it to-day." " Can't you give us something about Dubuque and the rest of your old friends-say Columbus or De Soto ?" " Now, here ! don't date me back as far as that ; I know I am an old cock, but that's too old altogether." " Well, go ahead, Sam ; no more joking. When did you check your baggage for Dubuque ?" "In 1832. sir. Tom and William Subtle and myself built a skiff at Smallpox Creek, mouth of the Fever, and sailed for up-stream. We went up as far as Catfish Creek, where stood the Indian village of Sauk. The bow of the boat was headed for the little village, and we pitched our tent with the Indians. After we had been there some little time, Capt. Craig, of Hanover,

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arrived, and the town was laid out. At that time, the land on which Dubuque now stands belonged to the Indians, and the soldiers guarded their property. There were no houses between here and Rock Island, and Julien Dubuque's hut on the brow of the bluff was the only house known to river pilots between those points." " What kind of a hut did he have ? Was it still standing when you arrived here ?" " Oh, yes ; we used to visit the old Frenchman's grave frequently. His hut was a kind of a dug-out, the sides built of rock and forming a square: Over the vault stood a house covered with cedar shingles. I have often crawled through it, but never roosted in the hut. His bones were in the grave then, without any doubt, as no body-snatchers existed in those days. People were honest then and didn't steal. In the hut over the grave lay two whitened skeletons, the bones of an Indian chief and squaw, who, before their death, requested that their bodies be placed over the remains of Julien Dubuque. Their skeletons remained until the city of Dubuque commenced to grow. Whatever became of their bones and Dubuque's, I don't know, but think they were carried away by visitors to the West. The first hut in Dubuque was built by Sam Morris, of Potosi, and was erected where the Norwegian plow-factory now stands. There is quite a little item connected with the first hut, which will be interesting. In 1834, a fellow named Wheeler occupied this ranche, and he was given the care of a young man who had gone crazy. The miners raised a purse and gave it to Wheeler, and instructed him to take the young man to his parents. After he returned, the miners learned that he had treated his patient in a most fiendish way, and they immediately set to work to punish Wheeler. A meeting was held, and it was decided to give their victim the choice of two punishments, viz .: thirty lashes across the bare back, or tar and feathers. The next day, they called and advised Wheeler of their intention, and asked him which of the two he would accept. He said, 'The latter,' and immediately two miners stepped forward, stripped him bare, and the tar and feathers came next. He was escorted out of his hut in full view of the crowd, and a keg of tar was poured over his carcass. After this administration, a fel- low appeared with a pillow filled with feathers, which he poured over the unfor- tunate individual. I tell you, he was a queer-looking specimen, but he took it so modestly that the miners had a good notion to give him the thirty lashes 'to boot.' After he had taken his medicine, he retired to his hut, and that was the last seen of Wheeler. He skipped the country, and I never heard of him since."

THE TALE OF AN UNREQUITED LOVE.

It was in the infant days of Dubuque, when there came to her shores a young man who has been identified with lier interests and with her changing fortunes from that time down to her riper years and better estate. His bank account, whose figures ran far up into the hundreds of thousands, his broad acres of fruitful lands, all testify to the wonderful financial shrewdness, thrift, steady perseverance and economy of this favored son of fortune. He is entitled to his great possessions, for no man's hand save his own has helped to build up this structure of success, excepting in paying the high rates of per- centage charged to lessees of uncultivated lands, which were taken in hand and made productive for the owner's future benefit, and other profitable schemes well known to the artful land agent of early times, and not quite forgotten by some of later establishment in our midst. Of these details it is unnecessary to speak, as they have little bearing upon the chapter now in hand. The stranger established himself modestly and unpretentiously at the one hotel de ville, otherwise the old City Hotel, and cautiously and slowly launched forth

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into the land of speculations that, by persistent pursuit, brought him a fortune which he saw not in his most sanguine golden dreams of the distant future. At the same hotel there was also a young lady, who had brought with her from the Emerald Isle all the scintillating wit, the vivacious, warm-hearted and romantic nature that is as natural to that storied land as the sunshine that gilds its beautiful lakes and valleys. and has inspired the hearts of the greatest poets the world has known. The magnetic, nameless charm that so frequently draws our heart to another even unsought and unasked, made this stern, silent and unimpressible man the object of the young woman's thoughts by day and dreams by night. His position and hers were not such as would naturally bring about a meeting. 'In fact, Yorick was not of the genial, social nature that found pleasure in society. and especially that of ladies. He was silent, cold and indifferent. When drawn into society, he was one of the most agree- able of men, fluent and even fascinating as a conversationalist, but he evi- dently preferred the seclusion of his apartments and the busy, money-making pursuits of his unembellished, musty office. So the years passed on ; the man growing rich and sordid ; the woman more infatuated, and hugging closer the phantom of a strange and unsought love that should know no requital in the land of materialized passions, unless, indeed, there may yet be an awakening on the part of the long-calloused heart, of which neither the misanthropic Yorick or his unknown lady love has now the faintest hope or dream. Many suitors have knelt at her shrine, but not one has been able to enkindle a responsive chord in the true and constant heart. All were rejected for the one image, the one great love that usurped her heart. Why it is that every man and woman, at some period of existence, considers his or her destiny unful- filled unless he or she have made fools of themselves, has never been satisfac- torily explained, but thatssooner or later this time arrives, cannot be gainsaid. To the same church Yorick and the fair Mary went Sunday after Sunday, she watching her unconscious love from a distance, and following him unobserved to the same hotel, which was the home of both. Wealth and position had come to Yorick, and the distance between them had widened. He, however, turned his back upon the wiles of women and wedded himself to yet greater attainments of wealth and to such pleasures as they would purchase for him in times and places where she could have no part. He and she are still members of this community ; he a rich recluse, she a still constant and loving woman. The roseate hue of the old love may have faded at the shrine where it was laid with its hopes and its promises, but it is smoldering still, and will be to the end of life. Her hours are saddened by the blight of a love such as few women experience, but. " true as steel," she will live upon the memory of the "might have been," while the unconscious lover goes on in the pursuit of wealth, which alone is his mistress and his idol.

MURDER WILL OUT-A TWO-YEAR-OLD DUBUQUE MYSTERY EXPLAINED AT LAST.

The Dubuque Times gives the following in explanation of an affair that has been a mystery to the citizens of that city for a long time : "As is known to perhaps nearly every resident of this community, the late R. E. Bishop was mysteriously and brutally assaulted upon the streets some two years ago. It was a cowardly and dastardly act, and was so pronounced, in unmeasured terms, by the press and by the people at the time. The work of the assassin was quickly and effectually done, and he got himself successfully beyond the reach of the law under the cover of night. The deed was committed in dark ness,

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and the perpetrator and all else connected with it have been buried in darkness ever since. At the time, it was known that Mr. Bishop was working valiantly in the temperance cause, and had been prosecuting a number of liquor suits against saloon-keepers and liquor-dealers. This had naturally stirred up con- siderable bad blood between the factions represented by Mr. Bishop and those defending the liquor interests. No sooner had the assault been made upon Mr. Bishop than the enemies of the saloon men sprung to the front with the accu- sation that they and their abettors had instigated the assault upon Mr. Bishop, and that, through a tool made easy use of through liquor generously supplied, they had taken this method of avenging themselves for his warfare against their cause and traffic. This accusation was made and circulated, and generally believed by a large proportion of the community. The liquor-dealers have always stoutly and steadily disclaimed any connection with the cowardly and. disgraceful affair ; but the impression sent forth had spread and become pretty firmly rooted, until recently, when a stranger appeared upon the scene, and. in an interview with a prominent attorney of this city, related the circum- stances of the attack made upon Mr. Bishop, and his own connection with it. This stranger is, or was, a Government employe in a distant State. He had suffered deep personal grievance at the hands of Mr. Bishop, according to his own statement, the particulars of which it is not important now to detail. The man came to this city for the purpose of avenging a real or fancied wrong. The public is familiar with the circumstance that followed. The stranger stated that he left the city on the evening of the assault, and only returned to Dubuque within a few days. The person giving the above facts is a respon- sible one, and, while it is of little moment, at this late day, to know who the assassin really was, it is right and just to remove, if possible, an impression that may have done a great wrong to many others wholly innocent of a grave offense with which they have been charged, and from which they have been made to suffer in the estimation of the entire respectable portion of the com- munity."

A DUBUQUE COUNTY HERO.

Buckskin Jo was recently in Peoria, Ill., with his band of Sioux Indians. Jo's history is a curious and checkered one. Being a Dubuque County boy, particulars of his life will be of interest to our readers. The Peoria Journal has quite a record of his career, which we give below :

" He was living with his father and mother at Cascade, Iowa, in 1849, when the cholera broke out. His father went to Dubuque after a load of goods ; was taken with the disease and died before he reached home. Jo's real name is Joel Phillips. His mother had a hard time in supporting him and his sister. In 1851, a Mormon preacher, named Strang. came along and persuaded Mrs. Phillips that she ought to go to Salt Lake. He depicted the beauties of that land in such glowing colors that, in August of that year, over thirty persons assembled at what is now Council Bluffs, and, putting themselves under com- mand of Strang as wagon boss, set out for Salt Lake. The party reached Plum Creek, a deep gorge that comes out of the sand hills, without accident. Here a party of Indians met them and demanded Strang. It seems that, com- ing East in the spring, Strang had wantonly shot and scalped a squaw and her papoose, and these Indians demanded him for revenge. He knew that his life was not worth an hour's purchase if he went with them. and he persuaded his party to stand by him. The Indians insisted upon taking Strang, and the whites resisted. Some one fired a shot, and the fight began. The whites were outnumbered, and in a few minutes were all massacred. Then the Indians'

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blood was up, and they charged upon the females, killing them. There were with the party two girls named Henderson. The Indians had taken a fancy to them, and thought that Jo was their brother. To this mistake he owed his life. In 1863, he rescued the girls from their long detention ; but they had then been with the Indians eleven years : both of them had married chiefs, and one of them had six and the other five children. Their husbands and all their children were slaughtered before their eyes in the Chivington massacre. The loss of their families, and the knowledge that they were thrown helpless upon the world, and that each was soon to bring into being another half-breed, so wrought upon their minds that on the third day after their capture, while in the Elephant corral in Denver, a sort of a frontier hotel, they committed sui- cide by hanging themselves-so strong a hold does a love for savage freedom take upon the mind under the force of early training. As for Jo, he was taken when he was fourteen, and at that age a boy speedily adapts himself to a life on the prairie. He learned their language, and all the arts and tricks of sav- agery. No one could beat him in throwing the lasso, in hurling the tomahawk, or in the use of the bow and arrow. He found what roots were edible, and where to get them. He was taught how to catch a rattlesnake; fasten its head under a forked stick and torment it until it was mad with passion, and then to seize a dog, tear his liver from his palpitating body and let the snake bury his fangs in it. The warm liver, with the animal life still in its tissues, swells up, turns green and decays. An arrow-point dipped in this substance inflicts an incurable wound. There is only one thing more deadly, and that is an arrow with the virus on its point from the decaying body of a dead Indian. This inflicts a wound that is a blood poison. The shafts of these arrows are always an indigo color, from the blue flag. Jo became an expert rifle-shot, a marvel even in that country ; and with bow and arrow, capable of feats beyond the range of an ordinary marksman. And then, with his Indian

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The history of Dubuque County, Iowa : containing a history of the county, its cities, towns, etc., Part 59

Author: Publication date: 1880 Publisher: Chicago : Western Historical Number of Pages: 964

Author:
Publication date: 1880
Publisher: Chicago : Western Historical
Number of Pages: 964