USA > Minnesota > Otter Tail County > History of Otter Tail County, Minnesota: Its People, Industries and Institutions, Volume I > Part 60
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A NINETY-DOLLAR STORY.
One day a man from Dane Prairie walked into Fergus Falls, and on the road lost his pocketbook containing ninety dollars. The man was very poor and worrying over the loss of so much money almost deranged his mind. A day or so later an elderly man, a Swede by the name of Anderson, came into my office in the court house with the pocketbook containing the ninety dollars. He asked me what he should do with it and of course I told him whose it was, and how glad the owner would be to know that it had been found. Anderson lived on the southeast side of Wall lake. I men- tioned this incident to show the difference between a good man like Ander- son and a bad one like the one who reported on his neighbor catching fish.
THE DROWNING OF JAMES CRAIGIE, WIFE AND MRS. JOHN CROMB.
All the old settlers will remember the drowning in Otter Tail lake of James Craigie, his wife and a Scotch lady, Mrs. John Cromb, who was visit- ing them at that time. The bodies of Mrs. Craigie and Mrs. Cromh were found shortly after they had sunk, but it was some time afterwards before the body of Craigie was recovered. On the Sunday morning following the
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accident the news was brought to Otter Tail City, where I was then staying. Everybody who could get away from the village went to Balmoral and I went along with the crowd. I got a raft made of pine rails and paddled out to where it was thought the body of Craigie might be found. Several Indian squaws, in birch bark canoes, paddled about my raft. One of them mumbled and beckoned to me. I worked my raft over to where she pointed, and looking down into the water I could see the body of Craigie. I lifted it to the surface of the water with a pole, and brought it to the shore.
SIXTY MILES TO THE NEAREST DOCTOR.
Hans Johnson, of Dane Prairie, while hunting shot himself through the hand. There was no doctor nearer than Alexandria, sixty miles away, and it was a whole week before Doctor Lewis of that place arrived at the home of Johnson to attend to him. The Doctor had to cut off the thumb and part of the forefinger. I was present at the operation.
MY FIRST CHRISTMAS IN OTTER TAIL COUNTY.
.On Christmas evening, 1869, my wife, our baby and my cousin, Mr. Boen, and I were sitting around the fireplace trying our best to keep .warm. It was cold, very cold, with the thermometer considerably below zero. We were trying to celebrate in our humble way the precious evening with the best possible appearance. We lighted our Christmas candles and quietly and seriously watched them slowly sputtering away. We were far from all our friends and relatives, and there was but one neighbor within several miles-Edwin Anderson and his wife and daughter, Nellie.
And so we sat and watched the fire in the grate and the light of our flickering candles until it was time to retire. Just as we were saying good night to each other and getting ready to go to our respective quarters, there was a knock at the door. A second rap with increasing violence seemed to indicate that whoever was on the outside was very anxious to come in. I must confess that I was uneasy and that as I went toward the door I had a premonition that an unwelcome visitor was standing outside.
I opened the door with no little trepidation and at once realized that my worst fears were confirmed. There stood two Indian families, four adults and five or six children, and it was not difficult to gather from their gestures that they wanted to come inside. I ordered them by signs equally well understood that they might come in if they left their guns on the out- side. They complied with my request and stepped in the room, making it so crowded that there was hardly room to stand. Our little hut was not built with the idea of housing any more than my own family and so many way- farers filled it to overflowing. It seemed that there was nothing to do but prepare to keep them over night and, accordingly. I went out to my hay
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stacks and carried in some hay to make a bed on the floor for them. You will understand that our little cabin was plastered tight and it was only a question of a short time until it was suffocating with the inevitable Indian stench. The situation was not relieved when the Indians took out their pipes and dry willow and began to smoke. To tell the truth we tried to be hospitable, but it was at the expense of our health. The poor Indians remained all night and you may imagine my relief when morning came. They then steeped some grass for tea, baked some cakes, ate their frugal meal and left us. Thus passed our first Christmas eve in Otter Tail county.
ANENT THE RIEL REBELLION.
In the spring of 1870 a French half-breed by the name of Lewis, with his family, camped near us. They soon became very friendly and proved to be very congenial neighbors, despite our religious differences, for they were devout Catholics. They had formerly lived in Manitoba and their sym- pathies were with the Canadians in the incident which I am going to relate. In the spring of 1871 or 1872 the old man came to me and in his peculiar broken English told me that he and his sons would join the half-breed army in the Riel rebellion. I discouraged him all I could from such action and told him he had nothing to gain and everything to lose by so doing, that he would be very liable to get killed. The poor half-breed believed that a few hundred half-breeds could actually whip England. Finally, after talking together for quite a while, he left me, but not until he had made me a pres- ent of a large canoe which he had made out of a basswood log. However, the old man finally did join the uprising and was arrested along with all the others who participated in the insurrection. He was sentenced to fourteen years in the Queenstown prison. Riel, himself, was hanged.
A DEER FIGHT.
An interesting incident which may bear saving regards a fight be- tween two buck deers which I witnessed in Tordenskjold township in the early seventies. I had been in St. Olaf township and was going from one township to another in my official efforts to get them into working order. Coming from Hoff's place on Pleasant river, I observed a man and woman running about between their house and stable in an excited way. This was about half a mile east of Gabriel Stoutland's farm. I turned my pony off from the path and made my way toward them. There I saw two buck deers whose horns had become so locked together in fighting that they could not get them apart. The man and woman brought out some strong ropes used for cow halters and with these tied the deer to some nearby tree. I left after this was done, and afterwards heard that the neighbors feasted on venison for several days thereafter.
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MOVING OF THE JAIL FROM OTTER TAIL CITY TO FERGUS FALLS.
In 1873, shortly after it was decided to move the county seat from Otter Tail City to Fergus Falls, the commissioners ordered the new log jail at Otter Tail City torn down and moved by sections to Fergus Falls. The hauling was done by Marcus Shaw and the building was set up on the lot west of where the Park Hotel now stands. A few days after the jail was moved in the spring of 1873, I met Salmon Larson, who had built the jail, and he seemed very much perturbed over the removal of the county bastile. In a tone of voice which left no doubt as to his feelings in regard to the matter, he said: "Now you fellows have stole the jail too, you are a thief, a robber and a scoundrel. You ought to be sent to prison instead of having county ,offices."
EARLY BOOTLEGGING IN OTTER TAIL COUNTY.
It is probable that the first man in Otter Tail county arrested for sell- ing whiskey to the Indians was Donald McDonald, a Scotch trader, who came to the county before 1860 and lived here throughout the Civil War and for many years afterwards. McDonald sold whiskey openly and made no pretense of trying to make a secret of his illicit traffic. He was finally arrested by the United States marshal and taken to St. Paul for trial. The old Scotchman was then somewhere between eighty and ninety years of age-before his death he claimed to be a hundred years of age-and was feeble in body, but very active in spirits. Upon arriving at St. Paul, Mc- Donald at once sent for Governor Ramsey and one or more of the terri- torial officials. He demanded that they get him out of jail at once. Dur- ing the progress of a kind of mock examination he was asked if he had ever sold any whiskey to the Indians. "By -, hundreds and hundreds of barrels." The old man was very profane and called upon the Almighty at frequent intervals for assistance. The officials who were examining him had this wild, half-dead man on their hands and they did not know just what to do with him. They pretended to him that Governor Ramsey should be responsible for his appearance in court. The trial came on, witnesses must have been lacking, for the old man was acquitted. As he was leaving the court room one of the attaches of the court said to him : "Now, Donald, don't sell any more whiskey." The old Scotchman shuf- fled toward the door, his tottering steps causing him to sway back and forth, but as he reached the door he mumbled as if to himself, "Not until I get home." History does not record whether he was arrested again, but tradition says that he continued to sell his national drink.
ASSESSING OF TAXES IN 1870.
In the spring of 1870 I had to get assessors appointed to list the prop- erty of the county for taxation. In my official capacity as auditor I had
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general charge of all matters connected with this work. One day I went into Fergus Falls township and found Ernest Buse and his young wife in a crib covered with hay. Ernest was always very hospitable and made me stop long enough to get a bite to eat. He told me several men had taken claims a couple miles west of him. I struck out and found a new log shanty within an hour's walk. I looked through the door and saw four or five men stretched out on the floor for their noon rest. These men were the three Kalling brothers, Charles Westberg and one Mr. Johnson. As I recall it, I got Johnson to do the assessing in Fergus Falls township for the spring of 1870. Any of the men were more than able to do the assess- ing, ,but Johnson seemed to be the best man for the job. From that time on I was a close friend as well as a neighbor of the five men I saw for the first time on that day. .
THE STORY OF A BOOK.
One morning in 1870 I was out on my official duties, walking as usual, when I came by the door of Julius Kalling. His shanty was a half dugout, the top half being made of logs. I went inside and found the young man reclining on some hay in a bunk. Looking about the small room I saw on his fireplace a large Swedish book which had evidently been smoldering in the coals for some time. I spoke out loudly in our common language and said: "Are you trying to burn a valuable book?" He turned toward me disgustingly and replied: "We need no books in this wilderness." I think the book was a large genealogical record of the Count Kalling family. Julius himself was a cadet from one of the military academies in Sweden.
THE FIRST INSANITY CASE IN OTTER TAIL COUNTY.
Few people in the county now living have a personal knowledge of the first case of insanity in Otter Tail county. I was intimately associated with the disposition of this case and believed that it merits a place in my reminis- cences of the early history of the county. A young Swede by the name of John Wickstrom settled on a claim in Elizabeth town. He was single and a tireless hunter. He often came to our home to rest and get something to eat that was home prepared. While he was away once on his hunting trips a man went into his claim shanty intending to take his (Wickstrom's) claim. When Wickstrom came home he found this man in his house and he refused to get out. Naturally Wickstrom did not like it, and the more he thought about it the madder he got. As he walked around the house he shot through the pitch of the roof. The upshot of this shot was that Wick- strom was soon arrested, and haled before a local justice of the peace in the community. It seemed that the intruder had more friends than Wick- strom, or at least he had more present on the day of the trial. The crowd surrounded John and by their talking, gesticulating and threats, so excited
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him that he became violently insane. Then the court and crowd had the insane man on their hands and did not know what to do with him. In this dilemma they brought him to my house, thinking that as county auditor, I ought to take charge of him. As soon as they got him in my house they made a hasty exit, and there I was, with my wife, baby and an insane man in their midst.
I fixed him that he could not get loose, saddled my pony and rode as fast as I could to the judge of probate first and next to two of the county commissioners. The latter promised to help me to get him to the insane hospital. I went back home and waited for the commissioners to come. When one of them came in sight of my house I let Wickstrom loose and turned him out of doors. Outside of my house was a pile of logs of various sizes. The crazy Swede grabbed one log after another from the pile and slung them high up in the trees and at the same time roared with the power of a lion. The county commissioner was a very slight and small man and this demonstration of brute strength on the part of the mad man was cer- tainly sufficient to frighten him. Wickstrom was a man of huge stature and could have tossed the county commissioner up in the trees about as easily as he did the ends of the logs. I spoke to Wickstrom and quieted him so that the commissioner felt that it was safe to come up to the house. When he finally faced Wickstrom the latter fiercely inquired, pointing his huge finger at the commissioner, "What do you want, little boy?" The "little boy" was so frightened that for the time being he did not know what he did want. Finally, however, I got Wickstrom quieted down and the com- missioner prepared an order for me to have him committed to the insane asylum of St. Peter. Sheriff Beardsley took him to the asylum and E. E. Corliss, who had some court business in St. Paul at that time, accompanied Beardsley to St. Peter. Wickstrom was later transferred to the Fergus Falls hospital, and died there in 1914, after being insane for forty-two years. I called at the hospital a few days after his death and when told of his demise, it seemed to affect my whole being. His history seemed a part of my own and carried me back to the hopeful days of 1872. It was all very sad to me.
THE SCOURGE OF THE SEVENTIES.
There are many people now living who have vivid recollections of those years when it seemed that the grasshoppers would cause a depopulation of the county. As I am writing there comes to my mind an experience I had with these ravagers of the seventies, which might be interesting to genera- tions yet unborn. On one of my trips down the Pelican valley I passed through the village of Elizabeth, or, as we usually called it in those days, Niggler's town. I noticed as I drove along the path up the valley how strong
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and healthy all kinds of grains and vegetation appeared to be. The fields of grain were all small, but they were very thrifty and were a delight to the eye. I rejoiced at the appearance of prosperity and the evidence of fertility of the land of Otter Tail county. In fact everything was marvelously beautiful. I wish to call especial attention to the luxuriance of all plant life in order to bring out the contrast which was to come a day later. On my way back down the valley. I rode through Sletvold township, now called Oscar. It seems that a settler in the township for reason of his own did not like the name Sletvold and quietly got the Legislature to change it to Oscar. Sletvold was the name given to it at the time of its organization, the name being bestowed upon it in honor of the Sletvold family, the first settlers in the township. Well, as I drove across the township something began to fall from the sky on my pony, into my buggy and even right in my face. At first, I did not know what it was, but it was not long before I found out that the precipitation was-the humble grasshopper. It was my first experience with the grasshopper in swarms, for they literally did swarm up and down the valley. I soon noticed that they had begun their deadly work-the grain in the fields, the vegetation in the gardens, all things green along the road- side showed the effects of their rapacious appetite. The waving grain of the previous day was a grievous ruin, the gardens which the wives of the farmers had so carefully tended were now in ruin. Hardly a head of wheat was left on the stalk and the garden vegetables were not only gnawed off to the ground, but in many cases even the roots had disappeared. In the case of even onions the hoppers had not only eaten the stalks, but even the very root of the onion, so that nothing was left of it except a hole in the ground where it grew.
FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION, 1870.
The first public celebration of the natal day of our independence was held at Pleasant River, Tordenskjold township, in 1870. I am not certain, but I think this was the first big celebration of its kind in the county. Despite the sparsely settled surrounding country a large number of people gathered in the grove on that. day for the occasion. Long tables were placed under the trees at the dinner hour and the women loaded them down with the best that the family larders contained. I only wish that I could give you my readers the bill of fare which was spread before us that day. We had no "spread eagle" orators that day, but there were several patriotic papers read. As I look back over the forty-six years which elapsed since that celebration, I find the names of a number of the people there that day firmly fixed in my memory as if the event had occurred but yesterday. Again I see seated around the table on that day Alleck Johnson, the Beardsleys, Hammers. Kinners, Frones, A. B. Larsen and Taral Olsen-all of St. Olaf; then there
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were the Dahl and Branvaldt families from Tumuli; Tordenskjold was represented by the Hoffs and Ihlsengs, Stoutland and the Jensen brothers, the families of Juelson, Lee, Skjordal, Bjorgo, Knud Peterson, Peter Larsen and Christian Johnson and his parents; Dane Prairie had sent John Grimset, Tyge Tygesen, Christ Hansen, and N. P. Hansen; from Aurdal there came the Torguson brothers, Nels E. Nelson, John and Edwin Anderson, and the three Holland brothers, Jonas, Michael and Ole. Practically all of these families came to this celebration in large lumber wagons drawn by oxen. Few of those sterling pioneers are left; a new generation has arisen; but we of that day were as truly patriotic as if we had ridden to the grove on that July day in 1870 in our automobiles. May our children and our children's children be as loyal in their devotion to this land of ours.
FIRST BRIDGE IN FERGUS FALLS.
I have a very definite recollection of the first bridge, a palsied, frail structure, which was thrown across the Red river in Fergus Falls. The whole village turned out to assist in the work-there were counts, preachers, lawyers, merchants, farmers and a few Rip Van Winkles. All were inter- ested in establishing dry foot connection between the two parts of the "Com- ing City." The boss of the job was Ernest Buse and the chief engineer was Peter Johnson, who was ably assisted by the Kalling brothers. This bridge spanned the river on Union avenue and was built in the spring of 1871. Buse afterwards, in a public statement, said that the bridge cost seventy cents and five gallons of whiskey. The latter was probably provided in order to give the bridge the proper strength and lasting qualities, although this is a question about which history is not definite. The bridge had both qualities for only a short time.
MORE REMINISCENCES OF O. JORGENS.
Among the loose records of the Otter Tail county commissioners was found an unsigned and undated letter which had been tied up for more than forty-five years in a package of stray papers. In searching for material for the present volume this letter turned up and every effort to identify the author met with failure. He was evidently one of the earliest settlers and a man of more than ordinary intelligence, judging from the letter. It was suggested finally that the letter be submitted to O. Jorgens, now of Minne- apolis, who was one of the most prominent men in the early history of the county, and who might be able to fathom the mystery of the letter. Strange things happen in fiction and things equally as strange in real life. Mr. Jorgen's reply by return mail cleared the mystery with the words: "This letter is my own letter." In answer to an inquiry concerning the appended letter, Mr. Jorgens says :
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'I came from Mower county and the letter you sent me was the copy of my own letter to the Mower County Transcript. The name of the newly elected county treasurer in Mower county was J. Irgens." In the same letter to the editor Mr. Jorgens, speaking reminiscently of various things, says that "In the fall of 1869 I walked past Fergus Falls and found M. Wright's home at the crossing. The house was vacant at the time. I don't think I ever saw the governor's appointment paper of Mr. Whiting ( Whiting was appointed auditor by the governor in 1868) or the commissioner's either. I didn't know that any such officials existed until I received notice of my elec- tion (as auditor ) in the fall of 1869. Soon after I had received my cer- tificate of election I went over to Clitherall to see Mr. Whiting (Sylvester). I do not remember that there was any official business done until March 8, 1870. Mr. Whiting was a very religious Mormon and disliked to have any- thing to do with worldly affairs. We couldn't very well do anything before we obtained a set of county records. The county didn't own a sheet of paper nor have a dollar in its treasury. '
"My first efforts were to negotiate with Mr. Driscoll of the St. Paul Pioncer Press for records. and it took several months before I got them. I am not positive the Pioneer was with the Press at this time, however, it was through Driscoll that I got the records." [Mr. Jorgens is a little in error in regard to the Pioncer Press in 1869. The consolidation of the two papers was not until later. Mr. Driscoll was with the St. Paul Press.]
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In speaking further of the railroad which was supposed to pass through Otter Tail City, but did not, Mr. Jorgens has the following to say: "I have always felt sure that Thomas Cathcart's refusal to yield to the demands of the railroad company forfeited the chances of Otter Tail City to become a station. I often heard Judge Reynolds. R. L. Frazee and E. G. Holmes say, in discussing the unfortunate termination of the railroad project, that the line north of Rush lake was much more expensive to build than the one between the lakes. [Mr. Jorgens means between Rush and Otter Tail lakes. ] I was not indifferent about this affair at that time."
The census records of 1860 returned two hundred and forty residents of Otter Tail county and every effort has been made to ascertain something about this early group of settlers. In reply to an inquiry concerning them, Mr. Jorgens, who took the census of the county in 1870, has the following to say of these inhabitants of 1860: "The people who were enumerated in 1860 were mostly teamsters, surveyors and their helpers, Indian traders, land locaters, etc. Many of them were sojourners here and not settlers; others were half-breed Indians. There was in Otter Tail City a family, the man a Canadian-Scotchman, the wife an Indian squaw, the name was Mc- who had many children. I think this family was in Otter
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Tail City in 1860. Old Donald McDonald lived there in 1860 and was still there when I first saw the town in 1870. He was a very old man and he told me the woods were full of his children by several squaws. He had lived in Otter Tail City a long time. He was an Indian trader-in whiskey. I got acquainted with two French-Canadian brothers by the name of Bell- anger, who had been in Otter Tail county since 1860. Nearly all the white people left the county in the fall of 1862, at the time of the Indian massacre, but these two brothers came back -- poor farmers and poor men. I cannot recall the name of an old Yankee who lived in Otter Tail City in 1860 and came back after the massacre. He had a few acres under cultivation and a few cattle, but he left shortly after I came here in 1869."
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