USA > Nebraska > Collection of Nebraska pioneer reminiscences > Part 4
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).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28
In May, 1873, a petition for an election to relocate the county seat was filed, but the motion of Commissioner A. K. Marsh that the petition be "tabled, rejected and stricken from the files" ended the discussion temporarily. In 1879 the county seat was removed to Clay Center. Several buildings were erected during the fall of 1873 and Sutton became the center of trade in the territory between the Little Blue and the Platte rivers.
Melvin Brothers opened the first store in 1873 south of the railroad tracks, now South Sanders avenue. At that time it was called "Scrabble Hill."
In 1874 the town was incorporated and a village government organized, with F. M. Brown as mayor.
Luther French was the first postmaster.
Thurlow Weed opened the first lumber yard.
William Shirley built and run the first hotel.
L. R. Grimes and J. B. Dinsmore opened the first bank.
Pyle and Eaton built and operated the first elevator.
Isaac N. Clark opened the first hardware store.
Dr. Martin V. B. Clark, a graduate of an Ohio medical col- lege, was the first physician in the county and opened the first drug store in Sutton. In 1873, during the first term of district court, he was appointed one of the commissioners of insanity. In 1877 he was elected coroner.
The Odd Fellows hall was the first brick building erected.
The Congregational church, built in 1875, was the first church building in the county.
William L. Weed taught the first school, beginning January 20, 1872, with an enrollment of fourteen scholars.
45
FIRST THINGS IN CLAY COUNTY
In 1876 the Evangelical Association of North America sent Rev. W. Schwerin to Sutton as a missionary.
In the early seventies the Burlington railroad company built and maintained an immigrant house on the corner south of the present Cottage hotel. This was a long frame building of one room with a cook stove in either end. Many of the immigrants were dependent upon a few friends who were located on the new land in the vicinity. Their food consisted largely of soup made with flour and water; any vegetables they were able to get were used. Meat was scarce with the immigrants. They had considerable milk, mostly sour, brought in by their friends. The immigrants remained here until they found work; most of them moved on to farms. The house burned about 1880.
In the early days Sutton was a lively business place with all the features of a frontier town. Now it is a city enjoying the comforts of modern improvements and refined society.
REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY
BY MRS. J. J. DOUGLAS
In July, 1888, I arrived at Broken Bow, which is situated geographically about the center of the state. That village looked strange to me with not a tree in sight excepting a few little cuttings of cottonwood and boxelder here and there upon a lawn. After having lived all my life in a country where every home was surrounded by groves and ornamental shade trees, it seemed that I was in a desert.
I had just completed a course of study in a normal school prior to coming to Nebraska, and was worn out in mind and body, so naturally my first consideration was the climatic condi- tion of the country and its corresponding effect upon the vegeta- tion. I wondered how the people stood the heat of the day but soon discovered that a light gentle breeze was blowing nearly all the time, so that the heat did not seem intense as it did at my Iowa home.
After I had been in Broken Bow about two weeks I was of- fered a position in the mortgage loan office of Trefren and Hewitt. The latter was the first county clerk of Custer county. I held this position a few weeks, then resigned to take charge of the Berwyn school at the request of Mr. Charles Randall, the county superintendent. Berwyn was a village situated about ten miles east of Broken Bow. It consisted of one general mer- chandise store, a postoffice, depot, and a blacksmith shop. I shall never forget my first impression on arriving at Berwyn very early on that September morning. It was not daylight when the train stopped at the little depot, and what a feeling of loneliness crept over me as I watched that train speed on its way behind the eastern hills! I found my way to the home of J. O. Taylor (who was then living in the back end of his store building) and informed him that I was the teacher who had come to teach the school and asked him to direct me to my boarding place. Being a member of the school board, Mr. Tay- lor gave me the necessary information and then sent his hired
46
47
REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY
man with a team and buggy to take me a mile farther east to the home of Ben Talbot, where I was to stay.
The Talbot home was a little sod house consisting of two small rooms. On entering I found Mrs. Talbot preparing breakfast for the family. I was given a cordial welcome, and after break- fast started in company with Mrs. Talbot's little girl for the schoolhouse. The sense of loneliness which had taken possession of me on my way to this place began to be dispelled. I found Mrs. Talbot to be a woman of kind heart and generous impulses. She had two little girls, the older one being of school age. I could see the schoolhouse up on the side of a hill. It was made of sod and was about twelve by fifteen feet. The roof was of brush and weeds, with some sod; but I could see the blue sky by gazing up through the roof at almost any part of it. I looked out upon the hills and down the valley and wondered where the pupils were to come from, as I saw no houses and no evidence of habitation anywhere excepting Mr. Talbot's home. But by nine o'clock about twelve children had arrived from some place, I knew not where.
I found in that little, obscure schoolhouse some of the bright- est and best boys and girls it was ever my good fortune to meet. There soon sprang up between us a bond of sympathy. I sym- pathized with them in their almost total isolation from the world, and they in turn sympathized with me in my loneliness and homesickness.
On opening my school that first morning, great was my sur- prise to learn how well those children could sing. I had never been in a school where there were so many sweet voices. My at- tention was particularly directed to the voices of two little girls as they seemed remarkable for children of their years. I often recall one bright sunny evening after I had dismissed school and stood watching the pupils starting out in various directions for their homes, my attention was called to a path that led down the valley through the tall grass. I heard singing and at once recognized the voices of these two little girls. The song was a favorite of mine and I could hear those sweet tones long after the children were out of sight in the tall grass. I shall never forget how charmingly sweet that music seemed to me.
I soon loved every pupil in that school and felt a keen regret when the time came for me to leave them. I have the tenderest
48
NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
memory of my association with that district, though the school equipment was meager and primitive. After finishing my work there I returned to Broken Bow where I soon accepted a posi- tion in the office of J. J. Douglass, clerk of the district court. Mr. Douglass was one of the organizers of Custer county and was chosen the first clerk of the court, which position he held for four years. I began my work in this office on November 16, 1888, and held the position till the close of his term.
During this time many noted criminal cases were tried in court, Judge Francis G. Hamer of Kearney being the judge. One case in which I was especially interested was the DeMerritt case, in which I listened to the testimony of several of my pu- pils from the Berwyn district. Another far-famed case was the Haunstine case, in which Albert Haunstine received a death sen- tence. To hear a judge pronounce a death sentence is certainly the most solemn thing one can imagine. Perhaps the most try- ing ordeal I ever experienced was the day of the execution of Haunstine. It so happened that the scaffold was erected just beneath one of the windows of our office on the south side of the courthouse. As the nails were being driven into that structure how I shuddered as I thought that a human being was to be suspended from that great beam. Early in the morning on the day of the execution people from miles away began to arrive to witness the cruelest event that ever marred the fair name of our beloved state. Early in the day, in company with several others, I visited the cell of the condemned man. He was busy distrib- uting little souvenirs he had made from wood to friends and members of his family. He was pale but calm and self-com- posed. My heart ached and my soul was stirred to its very depth in sympathy for a fellow being and yet I was utterly helpless so far as extending any aid or consolation. The thought recurred to me so often, why is it men are so cruel to each other - wolfish in nature, seeking to destroy their own kind? And now the thought still comes to me, will the day ever dawn when there will be no law in Nebraska permitting men to cruelly take the life of each other to avenge a wrong? I trust that the fair name of Nebraska may never be blotted again by another so-called legal execution.
It was during the time I was in that office the first commence- ment of the Broken Bow high school was held, the class consist-
49
REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY
ing of two graduates, a boy and a girl. The boy is now Dr. Willis Talbot, a physician of Broken Bow, and the girl, who was Stella Brown, is now the wife of W. W. Waters, mayor of Broken Bow.
We moved our office into the new courthouse in January, 1890. Soon after we saw the completion of the mammoth build- ing extending the entire length of the block on the south side of the public square called the Realty block. The Ansley Cornet band was the first band to serenade us in the new courthouse.
Mr. Douglass completed his term of office as clerk of the dis- trict court on January 7, 1892, and two weeks later we were married and went for a visit to my old home in Iowa. Soon after returning to Broken Bow we moved to Callaway. I shall never forget my first view of the little city of which I had heard so much, the "Queen City of the Seven Valleys." After mov- ing to Callaway I again taught school and had begun on my second year's work when I resigned to accept a position in the office of the state land commissioner, H. C. Russell, at Lincoln, where I remained for two years. During the time I was in that office Mr. Douglass was appointed postmaster at Callaway, so I resigned my work in Lincoln and returned home to work in the postoffice. We were in this office for seven years, after which I accepted a position in the Seven Valleys bank. After a year I again took up school work and have been engaged in that ever since. We have continued to reside at Callaway all these years and have learned to love the rugged hills and glorious sunshine. The winds continue to blow and the sands beat upon our path- way, but we would not exchange our little cottage in the grove for a palace in the far East.
AN EXPERIENCE BY MRS. HARMON BROSS
An experience through which I passed in northwestern Ne- braska in the early days comes to my mind very frequently.
When the railroad first went through that region to Chadron, Mr. Bross was general missionary for the Northwest, including central Wyoming and the Black Hills country.
When we first visited Chadron it was a town of white tents, and we occupied a tent for several days. Then the tent was needed for other purposes and Mr. Bross suggested that we find lodging in a building in process of erection for a hotel. The frame was up and enclosed, the floors laid, but no stairs and no division into rooms. The proprietor said we could have a bed in the upper room, where there were fifty beds side by side. He would put a curtain around the bed. As that was the only thing to do, we accepted the situation and later I climbed a ladder to the upper floor.
The bed in one corner was enclosed with a calico curtain just the size of the bed. I climbed on, and prepared the baby boy and myself for sleep. As I was the only woman in the room, and every bed was occupied before morning by two men, the situation was somewhat unique. However, I was soon asleep.
About three o'clock I was awakened by the stealthy footsteps of two men on the ladder. They came to the bed at the foot of the one we occupied, and after settling themselves to their satis- faction began discussing the incidents of the night. As they were gamblers, the conversation was a trifle strange to a woman.
Soon in the darkness below and close to the side of the build- ing where we were, rang out several pistol shots with startling distinctness.
One man remarked, in a calm, impersonal tone, "I prefer to be on the ground floor when the shots fly around like that." The remark was not especially reassuring for a mother with a sleeping baby by her side.
As no one in the room seemed to be disturbed, and as the tumult below soon died away, I again slept, and awakened in the morning none the worse for the experience of the night.
50
4
MRS. ANDREW K. GAULT
Third Vice-President General from Nebraska, National Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. Elected 1913
LEGEND OF CROW BUTTE BY DR. ANNA ROBINSON CROSS
The early history of Crawford and its environment is replete with tales of Indian scares; the pioneer settlers banding them- selves together and arming for protection against possible In- dian raids, all presenting lurid material for the most exciting stories, if one could gather the accurate data.
The legend of Crow Butte is one of the most thrilling, and at the same time the most important, of the many tales told by the old settlers around the winter fireside.
In the early history of the Sioux and Crow Indians, much strife and ill-feeling was engendered between the two tribes by the stealing of horses. As no satisfactory settlement could be arranged between them, it was declared, after a solemn pow- wow, that a decisive battle should be fought, and the field for the said conflict was chosen on the land east of the present site of Crawford. The final stand was taken on one of the peculiar clay formations known as buttes, found in northwestern Ne- braska. These eminences, dividing this section of the country into valleys and ridges of hills, add very much to the beauty of the landscape, by their seeming likeness to a succession of battle- ments and old castles.
This particular butte, standing like a sentinel about five miles east of Crawford, rises to a height of nearly three hundred feet on the east side, and is possible of ascent by gradual elevation on the west side. It appears to stand distinct and alone, form- ing a landmark on the horizon that has guided many a settler and traveler to home and safety. The writer is one of the num- ber of travelers who, from bitter experiences in long winter drives over the prairie, has learned to appreciate the landmark of the old Crow Butte.
The Sioux, having driven the Crows to the top of this butte, thought, by guarding the path, they could quickly conquer by starving them out. Under cover of night the Crows decided, after due deliberation, that the warriors could escape, if the old
51
52
NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
men of the tribe would remain and keep up a constant singing. This was done. The young and able-bodied men, making ropes of their blankets, were let down the steep side of the butte, while the poor old men kept up a constant wailing for days, until death, from lack of food and exhaustion, had stilled their voices. As the singing gradually ceased, the Sioux, while watching, saw white clouds passing over the butte, having the appearance of large, white birds with outstretched wings, on which they car- ried the old men to the "Happy Hunting Grounds." The Sioux, awed by the illusion, believed it an omen of peace and declared that forever after there should be no more wars between the Crows and the Sioux.
Through Capt. James H. Cook, an early settler and pioneer of this section, who has served as scout and interpreter for the Indians for years, I have learned that it was near this Crow Butte that the last great treaty was made with the Indians, in which the whole of the Black Hills country was disposed of to the white people. According to his statement, the affair came very nearly ending in a battle in which many lives might have been lost. The bravery and quick action of a few men turned the tide in favor of the white people.
The following original poem by Pearl Shepherd Moses is quite appropriate in this connection :
TO CROW HEART BUTTE
Oh, lofty Crow Heart Butte, uprising toward the sun, What is your message to the world below ?
Or do you wait in silence, race outrun, The march of ages in their onward flow?
Ye are so vast, so great, and yet so still, That but a speck I seem in nature's plan ;
Or but a drop without a way or will In this mad rush miscalled the race of man.
In nature's poems you a period stand Among her lessons we can never read;
But with high impulse and good motive found,
You help us toward the brave and kindly deed.
53
LEGEND OF THE CROW BUTTE
The winds and sunshine, dawns and throbbing star, Yield you their message from the ether clear, While moonlight crowns your brow so calm and fair With homage kingly as their greatest peer.
A longing fills me as I nightly gaze; Would I could break your spell of silence vast; But centuries and years and months and days Must add themselves again unto the past.
And I can only wish that I were as true, Always found faithful and as firmly stand For right as you since you were young and new, A wondrous product from a mighty hand.
LIFE ON THE FRONTIER BY JAMES AYRES Prairie Covered with Indians
In July, 1867, a freight train left the old Plum Creek station late one night for the west. As the company was alarmed for the safety of the trains, Pat Delahunty, the section boss, sent out three men on a hand-car over his section in advance of this train. They had gone about three miles to the bend west of the station when they were attacked by Indians. This was at a point nearly north of the John Jacobson claim. There are still on the south side of the track some brickbats near the culvert. This is the place where the Indians built a fire on the south side of the track and took a position on the north side. When the hand-car came along, they fired upon it. They killed one man and wounded another, a cockney from London, England, and think- ing him dead took his scalp. He flinched. They stuck a knife in his neck but even that did not kill him. He recovered con- sciousness and crawled into the high weeds. The freight came and fell into the trap. While the Indians were breaking into the cars of the wrecked freight, the Englishman made his escape, creeping a mile to the north. As soon as morning came, Patrick Delahunty with his men took a hand-car and went to investigate. Before they had gone half a mile they could see the Indians all around the wreck. Each one had a pony. They had found a lot of calico in one car and each Indian had taken a bolt and had broken one end loose and was unfolding it as he rode over the prairie. Yelling, they rode back and forth in front of one an- other with calico flying, like a Maypole dance gone mad. When they saw the section men with guns, they broke for the Platte river and crossed it due south of where Martin Peterson's house now stands. The section men kept shooting at them but got no game. They found that a squaw-man had probably had a hand in the wrecking of the train for the rails had been pried up just beyond the fire. The smoke blinded the engineer and he ran into the rails which were standing as high as the front of the
54
55
LIFE ON THE FRONTIER
boiler. The engineer and the fireman were killed. The engine ran off the track, but the cars remained on the rails. The In- dians opened every car and set fire to two or three of the front ones. One car was loaded with brick. The writer got a load of these brick in 1872 and built a blacksmith forge. Among the bricks were found pocket knives, cutlery, and a Colt's revolver.
The man who had been scalped came across the prairie toward the section men. They thought he was an Indian. His shirt was gone and his skin was covered with dried blood. They were about to shoot when Delahunty said, "Stop, boys," for the man had his hands above his head. They let him come nearer and when he was a hundred yards away Delahunty said, "By gobs, it's Cockney!" They took him to the section house and cared for him. He told them these details. After this event he worked for the Union Pacific railroad at Omaha. Then he went back to England. The railroad had just been built and there was only one train a day.
Wild Turkeys and Wild Cats
Tom Mahum was the boss herder for Ewing of Texas and had brought his herd up that summer and had his cattle on Dil- worth's islands until he could ship them to Chicago. He ban- tered me for a turkey hunt, and we went on horseback up Plum creek. He was a good shot and we knew we would get game of some kind. We followed the creek five miles, when we scared up a flock of turkeys. They were of the bronze kind, large and heavy. We got three, and as we did not find any more, we took the tableland for the Platte. As we came down a pocket we ran into a nest of wildcats. There were four of them. One cat jumped at a turkey that was tied to Tom's saddle. That scared his horse so that it nearly unseated him, but he took his pistol and killed the cat. I was afraid they would jump at me. They growled and spit, and I edged away until I could shoot from my pony, and when twenty-five yards away I slipped in two cart- ridges and shot two of the cats. The fourth one got away and we were glad to let it go. We took the three cats to town, skinned them, and sold the pelts to Peddler Charley for one dol- lar. Tom talked about that hunt when I met him in Oregon a few years ago.
56
NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
A Scare
On another occasion, Perley Wilson and I took a hunt on the big island south of the river where there were some buffalo. The snow was about eight inches deep and we crossed the main stream on the ice. Before we got over, I saw a moccasin track and showed it to Wilson. He said we had better get out. "No," said I, "let us trail it and find where it goes." It took us into a very brushy island. Wilson would go no further, but I took my shotgun, cocked both barrels, and went on but with caution for fear the Indian would see me first. I got just half way in, and I heard a "Ugh!" right behind me. The hair on my head went straight up. I was scared, but I managed to gasp "Sioux ?" "No, Pawnee. Heap good Indian." Then he laughed and I breathed again. I asked, "What are you doing here ?" "Cook- ing beaver," he replied, and led the way to his fire. He had a beaver skinned hanging on a plum tree and he had a tin can over the fire, boiling the tail. I returned to Wilson and told him about it. He said, "It is no use to try to sneak up on an Indian in the brush, for he always sees you first." I could have shot the Indian, as he only had a revolver, but that would have been cowardly as he had the first drop on me and could have had my scalp. We got home with no game that day.
PLUM CREEK (LEXINGTON), NEBRASKA
BY WM. M. BANCROFT, M.D.
On April 5, 1873, I arrived at Plum Creek, now Lexington, with what was called the second colony from Philadelphia, Penn- sylvania. Captain F. J. Pearson, who was in charge, later be- came editor of the Pioneer. Judge Robert B. Pierce and the Tucker family were also with this colony. On our arrival the only town we found was a mile east of the present site of Lex- ington. It consisted of a section house, a small shanty called the Johnson restaurant, one story and a half log house run by Daniel Freeman as a general store, and a stockade built of ties used as a place of safety for the horses and cows. The upper story of the Freeman building was occupied by the Johnson family, who partitioned it off with blankets to accommodate the immigrants, and the only lights we could depend on were candle dips from the Freeman store at twenty-five cents each. At this time bread sold at twenty-five cents per loaf.
There was also an immigrant house 20 by 40 feet located on the north side of the railroad nearly opposite the other buildings referred to. This house was divided into rooms 6 by 8 feet square with a hall between. The front room was used as Daw- son county's first office by John H. MacColl, then county clerk. There was also a coal shed and a water tank on the south side of the track. The depot was a mile west on a railroad section where the town was finally built.
The reason for the change of townsite was a fight by Free- man against the Union Pacific company. Freeman owned the quarter section of government land, on which the buildings re- ferred to were located.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.