History of Freeborn County, including explorers and pioneers of Minnesota, and outline history of the state of Minnesota, Part 53

Author: Neill, Edward D. (Edward Duffield), 1823-1893. Explorers and pioneers of Minnesota. 1882; Neill, Edward D. (Edward Duffield), 1823-1893. Outline history of the state of Minnesota. 1882; Bryant, Charles S., 1808-1885. Sioux massacre of 1862. 1882; Bryant, Charles S., 1808-1885. State education. 1882; Minnesota Historical Company
Publication date: 1882
Publisher: Minneapolis : Minnesota Historical Co.
Number of Pages: 576

USA > Minnesota > Freeborn County > History of Freeborn County, including explorers and pioneers of Minnesota, and outline history of the state of Minnesota > Part 53

Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).

the musie of the bells, or of the horn abont din- Der time! If that gun had been aimed directly at us by an unseen foe or assassin, its report would have been sweeter music by far, to our ears, than that of the laughter of the bubbling brook, or of a wind instrument under the gentle manip- ulation of a forty lung power operator of the tentonie persnasion. We were about used up, despaired indeed of ever being able to reach a human habitation, and King Richard the three times, never wanted somebody to bind up his wounds and bring a horse, half as bad as we did. Gray prayed accordingly, and I'm afraid I pro- fanod, and used enss-words all that memorable afternoon. Gray prayed for guidance to Albert Lea, and I swore I did not believe there was any sneh place, except on the map, that it was a myth, an iguus fatuus luring us on to a worse fate than that of the babes in the woods; only in this case it was babes on the inhospitable prairie, for I was morally certain we had traveled far enough to find a dozen Albert Leas, had they been as big as St. Paul or New York. The fact was we were only about six miles on a straight line from Ge- neva. With ditliculty we dragged our weary limbs along in the direction from whence the re- port of the gun had come, and shortly encount- ered a solitary indian who was lying low for wild geese, and by signs and facial gestures made him understand that we were lost, and didn't feel very well ourselves, when, instead of taking our sealps, as he might easily have done, and thus forever extinguished the brillianey of that luminary, the Southern Minnesota Star, ere yet it had begun to illuminate the darkened earth, led us to a house in a clump of trees not half a mile off, owned and occupied, I believe, by a pioneer named Beards- ley. It was a primitive residence in the primeval forest, as it were, to which that primitive child of nature, Lo! the poor Indian, conducted us, but never since, even in the palatial hotels of Chicago or any of the great cities, have I feasted more sumptuously than I did that night in that little log cabin by the lake, on a bill of fare which con- sisted wholly of bread, salt pork, starch gravy, and a decoction of rye, not the rye that comes from the still, but still it was rye, coffee; nor do I think I ever slumbered more sweetly or peacefully on the costliest spring bed or hair mattress, with snowy sheets and embroidered counterpoint, than I did that night on a straw tick, spread upon the

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rough floor of that rude log hut. The next day we made our grand entree into Albert Lea, just in time to break bread with its founder at his mer- idianal meal, and sop it with him in the starch gravy, in the preparation of which, good, kind- hearted, eccentric Mrs. Ruble was a real artist.

You who have come here in later years should have seen Albert Lea then; it was a county seat without buildings, and literally without inhabi- tants. One solitary little log building, occupied by Clark as a store and bachelor's hall, together with Ruble's log house on the isthmus, and Capt. Thorne's frame shanty on his addition to a town that had no existence save on paper, constituted the whole of the wealth, and contained all of the inhabitants of your now handsome full-fledged city of 2,500 people. Coming from Austin by the shortest route, you passed a single frame house on the way, and in the whole county, six months later, there were not voters enough to elect my respected friend and fellow pioneer, Judge Stacy, and your humble servant to the first State Legislature. It wasn't our fault, how- ever; simply a lack of votes, that was all-for even at this late day I am conseious of the faet that we were both willing, if not anxious, to serve the State in the capacity of law makers; that we were abundantly qualified to do so with credit to ourselves and profit to the then budding young commonwealth, nobody seemed to have a doubt- with the trifling exeption of the people who cast a majority of the ballots. Indge Stacy had been a member of the double barreled Constitutional Convention, in which he had acquitted himself well and ably. I was an editor, and-I was about to say, a lawyer-but that wouldn't be true; I was a member of the bar, but no lawyer-and what I didn't think I knew about the affairs of State, most certainly has never since been learned by any one. And right here I want to thank any and all old settlers who may be here present, who contributed to the result of that first general election, and especially my old friend and suc- cessful competitor for legislative honors, for laying me out on that occasion colder than a wrought iron wedge in January. Had they endorsed my pretensions, I now know that it would have been the worse for me, and most probably for them- for that legislature did the five million loan business, which certainly has not redounded to the credit of the State, and it is quite probable

that had I been a member I should have voted for it, or, who knows? I might have gone on from bad to worse until I landed in Congress or the penitentiary, it wouldn't have made much difference which-for, while there may not be any persons in our penitentiaries who ought to be in Congress, it is morally certain that a great many members of Congress are badly lied about, or else they ought to be in the penitentiary. The bare possi- bility of what might have followed in the wake of a different result in the first general election in Freeborn county, is, even at this distant day, fearful to contemplate. For, I have held not a few othices of trust and responsibility since that time. and have learned to rate the honor which an election or an appointment to official position is supposed to confer, at its real value. I have come to believe that in these degenerate days, with the ballot in the hands of the ignorant, the sordid, and the vicious elements of the country, who are either bought or driven to the polls, when legislators are bought and sold like sheep in the shambles, and oflices of the highest trust and importance are made objects of barter and of sale to the highest bidders, when corruption rankles in every vein and has become a festering sore in the body politic, I have come to believe that at such a time and in such a generation the post of highest honor is, indeed, the private sta- tion. But were it otherwise, the holding of official position ought to be the highest ambition of the true American citizen. The man who has sufficient ability to discharge with promptness and efficiency, the duties of any office to which he may aspire, ought to be, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred is, able to make more money and live more comfortably, in the pursuit of some legitimate business, and if he isn't able to do so, he isn't fit to hold office. The man who seeks an office is, most generally, the one above all others who shouldn't have it; and there is no honor attached to the incumbency of an office which does not come to the holder as the free, unsought offering of an intelligent people. It's a funny thing though. this running for office, almost always. Two years ago I stumped the Congres- sional district in which I live in behalf of my party candidate for Congress. He was a good, honest fellow, not much of a talker himself, but unfortunately had a nasal protuberance of un- nsmal size and lustre, from the end of which a

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wart had been amputated by a rebel bullet, giving it the appearance of having been through several dog fights and as many Indian wars. At every meeting I was compelled to explain, first of all, that this black eye of mine was perfectly legiti- mate, and not the logical result of having called the wrong man a liar, and that my friend, the candidate's olfactory organ hadn't really been mutilated in a dog or barrow fight, but that it had been shorn of a part of its original majesty by a minnie ball while he was leading the advance of a well conducted retreat, in the cause of his country, during the rebellion: and though I pledged my sacred honor, and my inaleinable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, for the truth of both statements, those Michigan- ders gently waved their massive auriculars, smiled a sweet smile of incredulity, and then went to the polls and elected the other candidate. Those of you who know my politics, however, and sym- pathise with them will appreciate the remark when I say that Michigan has a painful habit of always electing the wrong man. Now, my party want me to stand for Congress, but I won't even "lay" for it; I haven't one-twentieth part the de- sire to go to Congress, as I once had to represent your county in the State legislature; and I have no more desire to meet and shoot otf epithets at those Confederate brigadiers now, than I was anxious to go down and shoot bullets at them in 1863-4.

But I'm afraid I'm getting this story badly mixed up. I wanted to tell you something about the early history of Albert Lea and Freeborn county, but I've wandered so far from the subject and the carly history was made so long ago, that it's hard to get back to it. I believe I was telling you what constituted the wealth and population of Albert Lea in March, 1857. It was Yankee Doodle who couldn't see a traditional town be- cause there were so many houses; but that wasn't the case with the founders of your first local news- paper; there wasn't any houses when they came to your town, to obstruct the vision, or mar the great natural beauty of the site upon which it has since been built, and if there had been, it would have made no material difference, for they hadn't been an hour at Ruble's before they were both as blind as herrings-herrings that are red-and didn't take any pleasure in viewing the landscape o'er, at least to not any considerable extent, until

after a period of four or five days had elapsed. It was what is known as a snow blindness, and just as effectual for the time being as though the eye had been put out by an explosion of nitro-glycer- ine. Ruble was then busy completing his mill, but when it was about finished, the spring rains united with the melting snow in raising a flood which carried away part of the dam. and he found himself in possession of "a mill by a dam site, but no dam by the mill site," and we all turned out and helped make the necessary repairs. When he finally got the mill started, the first cut of lumber was used for the erection of the printing office, which was, if my memory is not at fault, the first firame building on the original townsite. In the meantime I had gone back to Hastings after my wife, and returning, again commenced the erection of the second frame building, designed for a dwelling. It was a princely mansion, made of rough boards set up on end, and upon which, although I was no carpenter, I did the most of the work. In it my wife and I commenced house- keeping as soon as it was enclosed and roofed over with slabs instead of shingles; well do I re- member the primitive cupboard with which we commenced life; it was made out of a large dry goods box set on end. while the graceful festoons in which my wife arranged the quilts and cover- lets which were made to do duty as doors and windows, will never be forgotten. At that time, I verily believe that there wasn't such a thing as a carpet in the settlement, nor any but the rudest home made furniture. And right here I desire to relieve the tedious narrative with the relation of an incident which occured about that time. When I went back to Ilastings after my wife, Ruble armed me with a well executed plat of the embryo city, and a power of attorney constituting me an agent for the sale of lots. While at Hastings I fell in with a Boston capitalist named Stowell, to whom I sold two or three lots, which, judging from the plat and site designated for the printing office, were quite eligibly located. Stowell was a rather convivial sort of a fellow, and had plenty of money which he was investing in wild lands and town lots in what he considered the best local- ities. The town plat of Albert Lea had been sur- veyed in the winter, and in order to preserve the symmetry of form which would be most pleasing to the eye when it was placed on paper, a corner of the lake was taken in. I was not aware of the

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fact at the time, and the lots I sold to Stowell, happened to be that particular par's of the plat. I had been back from Hastings only a few days when Stowell put in an appearance. I had said so much praise of the new town, pictured in glow- ing colors the great natural beauty of the loca- tion, that after buying the lots, he couldn't resist the temptation to come and see for himself. It was a very wet season; the river and lakes had over-flown their banks, every slough was a lake in itself, and how the fellow got here when he did was a mystery. He said he swam most of the way, and I was inclined to believe him, for I re- membered that shortly afterwards I went on horse-back to Geneva after a cow I had purchased from Mr. Robson or John Heath, I don't remem- ber which, and I had a terrible time of it. The horse was a blooded animal; I don't remember exactly whether he was sired by old Duroc, Ham- bletonian, or Lucifer, but I do think he must have been, as Mark Twain would say, damned by every- boly who ever rode him. I started to drive the cow home, and whenever I came to a slough, I would drive her in and crack the whip at her till she got across, and then I would get off the horse start him in, and hang on to his tail so as to be ready to pull him out in case he got mired. Sometimes before I could get across, the cow would start back again, higher up or lower down, and then the horse and I would have to follow suit. When I finally got that cow home, she was blind of one eye, and couldn't see out of the other, had lost a horn, and had but a part of a tail to tell the story of her own muley-ishness, and man's inhumanity. But here again I've got two stories mixed. Before I got on the last tangent I was about to say that after Stowell had been here a day or two, he came to me and wanted to know if I had a boat or canoe, I told him my partner had a canoe, and if he wanted to go duck shooting, I would get it and go with him. "Duck shooting be-blessed!" said he, "I want to go out and look at those d-ashed lots you sold me, that's all!" I went with him to Mr. Ruble, who very readily and willingly consented to make a fair exchange with him, gave him the same number of lots on terra firma, and he went away satisfied. I did not see him again till the latter part of summer, and from what then occurred I was led to believe that I was not the only person from whom he had bought water lots. I then met him at the Mer-

chant's Hotel, St. Paul, not exactly in a beastly state of sobriety, but a trifle the worse for liquor, Being obliged to remain over Sunday, myself and a friend or two concluded to attend divine service, just as we were leaving the hotel, Stowell accos- ted us with an inquiry as to where we were going. He had been imbibing rather freely during the previous night, and had more liquor aboard than one man ought to try to carry-unless he has a jug in which to put at least a part of it. Being told that we were going to church, ne said, "thash all right ( hic) boys, gnesh I'll go too," and it was impossible to get away from him, though we walked fast and left him following some distance behind. Reaching the church we entered and were shown a seat well up in front by the usher; just as we were sitting down Stowell stepped in- side the door, and the minister began lining out that old familiar hymn:

"There is a land of pure delight Where saints immortal dwell,"

when he was interrupted and the congregation horrified by the emphatic exclamation from Stow- ell-"Yes, thash's another Minnesota story, sell wile lan's and water lots!" It is needless to remark that our friend Stowell didn't remain to hear the sermon, but was unceremoniously ushered out, and I have never heard of him from that day to this. The story went the rounds of the papers at the time, and perhaps some of you may remember having read it.

I will not dwell upon the condition of affairs in Albert Lea and Freeborn county at the time I left them, after a two years' residence. The town was a mere hamlet, with no public buildings, churches or schools, and not even a wagon road worthy of the name. I had established a newspaper accord- ing to agreement with Mr. Ruble, and did all I could, considering my youth and inexperience, to advertise abroad the great natural advantages and attractions of the town and county; but looking back through the vista of years, I must say that I'm afraid that the Southern Minnesota Star illu- mined with rather a pale, flickering light the re- gions round about; certain it was that its little light was soon extinguished, and for a time Free- born connty was plunged into the depths of a literary darkness. A second paper-The Freeborn County Eagle-was started after the lapse of a few months, and soared for a time among the lit- erary clouds, passing into the hands of Mr. Bots-

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ford, when I gave it up and left the county; the Standard, I am informed, is the legitimate offspring of the papers I founded upon the sands of the desert, as it were-two dollars a year strictly in advance. 1 could relate many incidents that oc- eurred during my residence here; among the laughable lawsuits, the fight for the county seat with Bancroft, a mythical town which could then only be found with the aid of a mariner's com- pass, though it had a larger local paper than Al- bert Loa-The Bancroft Pioneer -published by D. Blakely, afterwards Secretary of State: of the political squabbles: the congratulations ex- tended to me as the father of the first child born on the original town site: of the first funeral; but I will not weary your patience further than to re- late one anecdote which had its beginning when I was an apprentice boy with old Governor Sam. Medary in Columbus, Ohio, and its ending after he came to St Paul as chief executive of the ter- ritory. As a boy I was generally eredited with being able to concoct and execute more mischief in an hour than I would be able to atone for in a lifetime. As an apprentice with the governor: the order of business consisted principally in be- ing discharged one day and hired over again the next. I owed my frequent dismissals to the pranks I played on the Colonel, as he was then called, and my reinstatement, to the kind interpo- sition of his good wife, with whom, notwithstand- ing my mischievous propensities, I was something of a favorite. I slept in a room at the office, and took my meals at the Colonel's house, doing the little chores morning and evening, and sometimes hoeing up early corn, cabbages, and potatoes in the garden. I had played many tricks on the Colonel, who was at times, terribly profane. but the one I am about to relate broke the camel's back, and resulted in my coming west. An unruly cow was in the habit of breakfasting on the Colonel's tender young cabbages, and that. coupled with the fact that she could never get out the same way she got in, but had to have the gate opened for her, made him terribly angry. In a room in the printing office building was stored a lot of old flint-lock muskets which be- longed to a defunet militia company, and which myself and another apprentice used to fire off, one after another, from the top of the building at an early hour in the morning to the annoyance of the whole town. One fine summer morning, when

the cow was taking her regular matutinal meal, the Colonel ordered me to go to the office. load the musket with powder, and carry it to the house, so that, as he remarked, he eould "pepper her cabbage for her." I went, not in the best of humor possible, and did as I was ordered. I put into that musket powder enough to load a siege guu. put some dry paper on top of the powder, and rammed upon that some more paper which was not so dry, then put in a handfull of old type from the printers' "hell box" and some more paper on top of that. Going back to the house, I found the Colonel waiting impatiently with a handful of pepper-berries, which I put into the musket with some more paper on top, in the meantime suggesting that the gun kicked, and he had het- ter let me do the shooting, though I wouldn't have been behind that musket when it went off for the best dollar of the daddies that ever came from the mint. He was indignant, and proposed to do his own cow killing-and he did. That cow for the first time went out of the garden the same way she got in-over the fence-with a long drawn ont bellow, that would have gone to the heart of a less wicked boy than I now know myself to have been-and she didn't come back again either -- but just went out on the commons and died. When the roar of the musket had died away, and the cloud of smoke began to soar heavenward, the Colonel was seen trying to pick himself up from between two rows of potatoes, livid with rage, and-but it is sufficient to say he paid for the cow, and I took Greeley's advice, and came west, after a few years bringing up at Albert Lea. In the fall of 1857, Judge Stacy and myself were delegates to the first Democratic State Convention, and I lost no time after reaching St. Paul to call on the Colonel, who was then governor. I had grown from a boy to man's estate, and was, of course, considerably changed. Without telling my name, I said to him that I was running a little paper in the south part of the territory, a delegate to the convention, and had called to see if he couldn't give me an appointment to help me along, if it was nothing more than that of notary publie. He eyed me keenly for a moment and then remarked, 'It seems to me I ought to know yon; your face is familiar, and yet I can't exactly place yon.' I ventured to say that I thought he ought to remember me, don't you remember Colonel '-'Hold on, not another word" said he, .I

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know you now! You're the infernal rascal who loaded that musket! Notary public! Why God bless me Alfred, I'd make you president if I could.' And he grasped my hand and shook it as cordially and heartily as he could have done had his arm never been partially paralyzed by the rebound of a musked loaded with a cannon charge.

Up to the time I left here, not a dollar's worth of farm produce had been exported from the county, and but few if any of the farmers had grown more grain than wonld suffice for planting the following year. All the breadstuffs consumed by the population at that time were imported. There was no flouring mill, and I do not think there was a single reaper in the county, though there may have been one or two. Salt pork and starch gravy was the regular bill of fare. I re- member the first summer I was here I had oc- casion to go to Chatfield, and returning on foot, a short distance this side of that place I saw some pie-plant growing in a farmer's garden, a package of which I purchased at a fabulous price, and carried all the way home as a rare and not easily obtained luxury. And I so far remember those old pioneer days that sometimes when my wife suggests that there is little variety in our table bill of fare, and she would like a change, I go down town, carry up a piece of salt pork and say to her, 'there my dear; a little salt pork, with starch gravy, « la Albert Lea, if you please;' and we enjoy it as much and even more than we would have relished the luxuries which were not attain- able in those pioneer days.

Now I am told that Freeborn county, instead of importing its breadstuffs, exports annually wheat to the extent of over a million and a quarter of bushels, and other farm products in proportion. Most heartily do I congratulate you. people of Freeborn county, and the old settlers particularly, upon what you have accomplished. Where twenty years ago was a dreary waste I see now a most beautiful city, with costly buildings, elegant residences, fine hotels, churches, and schools, thriving villages, and on every hand fields of waving grain, lowing herds, and unmistakable evidences of material prosperity and wealth. Your patient perseverance has conquered a signal suc- cess, of which you are in every way worthy and deserving. May you continue to prosper, and that Heaven's choicest blessings may continue to

fall upon you and yours, is the earnest prayer of one who has oftimes regretted that he did not re- main to share the trials and hardships throngli which you have passed to a final participation in the grand triumph you have achieved. It is a beautiful custom you have inaugurated-this re- union of oldl settlers every year, when you meet like old soldiers, fight your battles over again, lay aside the cares of business, and forgetful of party strife and personal bickerings, cement anew the bonds of friendship, and that unity of sentiment. and endeavor which has enabled you to conquer all obstacles and make yours the garden county of the garden State of the Union.

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