History of Hall County, Nebraska, Part 14

Author: Buechler, A. F. (August F.), 1869- editor
Publication date: 1920
Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western Pub. and Engraving Co.
Number of Pages: 1011

USA > Nebraska > Hall County > History of Hall County, Nebraska > Part 14

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).

STAGE ROUTES

We were located on the great western stage route, which ran from Omaha to Old Fort Kearny. It followed the old Oregon and Mormon and California Trail. The stage line running from Plattsmouth to Fort Kear- ny was called the Overland Stage Line. There was a stage line from Leavenworth, Kansas, which struck the Overland Trail at Sober Swiskey (Dobe Town) and Gamblers Roost twelve miles east of Old Fort Kearny, now known as Prosser. . That was called the Snaky Hill Stage Line.

The stage line running from Kansas City, called the Santa Fe Stage Line, intercepted the Overland west of old Phalon's Bluffs. From Fort Kearny on west to the Pacific coast this was called the Overland Stage and Pony Express route. These stage lines west, northwest and southwest, were controlled and operated by Ben Holladay.

The stages were arranged for the comfort of the traveler, with cushion backs and seats, and could carry eight passengers very com- fortably. A ninth would have to sit in front with the driver in his booth. The driver occu- pied the largest part of that seat accompanied by mail sacks under the seat, his tool sack, water pail, buffalo robe and whip. There was also a rear booth on the stage for a trunk with a heavy leather curtain to buckle down, pro- tecting them from storm. These stage coaches were built not on steel springs, but heavy leather springs, so in going over an ob- struction the coach would not jolt, but simply

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HISTORY OF HALL COUNTY NEBRASKA

SQUIRE LAMB'S ROUTE

West of Old Phalon's Bluffs, Spuire Lamb drove from the station at his place to Fort Kearny. He changed his teams at Wood River Center where he usually put on four big grey mules, which he drove through the Platte River. When the river was at full bank it made a dangerous crossing, but he never touched the reins or used a whip on the animals while they were passing through deep water. He guided the mules by the throwing of little stones that he carried in the front booth, and when he did whip the mules it was done with a trace chain. When he desired the animals to go up stream he would throw stones and rattle the trace chain and they would get into the collar in a hurry. The channel next to the last channel on the south, which is called ox channel, was very danger- ous, and in high water it was very deep and the current very swift. More or less stock was drowned in this channel at different times, and passengers on the stage would get wet. The stage company at Omaha finally built a sand wagon with five inch tires on the tread, and between seven and eight feet high, its steps going up from the behind. This wagon' was sent out by the company for this Platte River crossing. The drivers would leave the stage on the north side and the passengers' trunks would be put aboard the sand wagon. I was sent up with Squire Lamb on the sand wagon on the first trip through the river, and the passengers crossed in safety without getting wet. I sat in the front booth with the driver. Going into Ox channel the mules were obliged to swim for about 50 feet at one stretch, and all we could see of them was their ears, their entire bodies being submerged. I remarked to the driver that the mules would drown, and he replied that so long as their ears were two feet, six inches out of water they would not drown, and that they got their breath through their ears. I never knew before that mules breathed through their ears.

All stage lines came into the stage barns at Kearney about the same time, hardly ever any one being more than an hour late. If they were late, it was usually on account of snow

drifts or swollen streams. The stage barns were located across the road from the Fort where they kept extra horses, mules, stage coaches, and other accessories, and when there was an overplus of passengers for the west, they would put on an extra stage,on the Overland route. West of Kearney, the Pony Express was put in. They paid $50.00 and board for working on these stages. A dollar in those days looked as big as a wagon wheel. The limit to weight of persons driving a stage was 135 pounds, and when measured and weighed at Kearney I filled the bill .. My par- ents thought $50.00 was too little and the route too dangerous, but I kept at it and was considered a good and easy rider, and I never heard of a Pony Express rider being held up, although they carried the most valuable parcels.

DURING THE CIVIL WAR

While the Civil War could not take many away from such frontier settlements as we had out here, the Indians became very trouble- some as early as 1862. They would make a break down the valley and run us in our cabins, and take all our buffalo meat. We would hard- ly get our cabins lined up again before they would make another raid, which was very dis- couraging to the settlers. Some of them would stop and converse with Mrs. Eldridge, as she could talk the Sioux and Cheyenne tongues, and once or twice she saved the settlers from serious trouble. The redskins knew that a serious conflict was going on between the North and South and diverting the attention of the federal government from them, so de- pradations of all descriptions were permitted on the plains. Some of these were planned by white outlaws, but not all. Important trains were attacked, horses and mules stampeded, and white villages attacked. As a rule the redskins could be mean enough without white men putting them up to anything worse. As Mrs. Eldridge often remarked, "they would sign a treaty with one hand and scalp you with the other." I understand the Smith massacre, Campbell raid, and other specific incidents and episodes of this period, as well as the stampede of 1864, are detailed in your

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HISTORY OF HALL COUNTY NEBRASKA

work by others. In 1864, 300 warriors, This was a long structure with walls made of squaws, and papoose came up and surrounded the Eldridge home, and Bill thought his time had come, but they had come only to offer him his pick of ten ponies out of 500 for his wife. They wished to take her to Pine Ridge or Rose Bud, but Bill flatly refused. She had no fault to find with the Indians, as the happiest girlhood days had been spent in an Indian reservation, but she had married her paleface and wished to spend the remainder of her life among her own people. The In- dians told her that if she did not go with them before twelve moons came around they would massacre the whole settlement. The Indians were then committing crimes west of Kearney on the Overland trail near Cottonwood Springs, where there was a small squad of soldiers stationed.

The Indians in the stampede that followed these attacks of 1864 practically ran our whole community out of the Wood River Valley. Upon about fifteen minutes warn- ing many of the families cleared out and never stopped until they got to Fremont or Colum- bus. As I remember, the eighteen families that were then living in that valley were, Sol Reese, Jim Boyd, Storey, Nutter, Sol Rich- mond, Highler, Jim Jackson, Richard An- thony, and Patrick Moore, Edmond O'Brien, Dugdale, Jack, Bob, and Ted Oliver, Bill Eldridge, Squire Lamb, and Fred Adams. The Martins located in south of the river, more towards Doniphan region, in 1862; John Thomssen Sr. who came in 1857, was down in what is now Alda Township. The German Settlement, as it was called (down south, the present Grand Island), had fine homes started with good supplies of poultry, lands where they had plenty of corn, cabbage, and vegetables of all kinds and good grain. Just getting well fixed they were reluctant to leave their homes and thought out some means of protection. Koenig and Wiebe had a good stock of groceries and dry goods on the north channel of the Platte, which the people in Grand Island called Wood River, so they felt the same way. A large fortification was built around the premises of Koenig and Wiebe.

sod about eight feet high and three feet wide with port holes. . Some wanted to call it Fort Grand Island, others wished to call it Fort Wiebe, but Henry Timpke, who lived half a mile from the O. K. Store, said it should be named Fort Sauer Kraut, and it was known by this until the store was re- moved. When our folks had to leave in July. 1865, Mr. Eldridge, Mr. Lamb, and my father had been putting up hay on the bottoms near our home. They had put up three stacks, one for each of the men, and were going to cut and draw the rest home, and they were going to put up more, when the critical moment ar- rived on August 1st. We learned the red-skins had cut the telegraph lines east and west of Fort Kearny, the stages stopped, and freighters were stopped. Jim Jackson rode down the trail and told us to load all our effects into our wagons. We left many things behind. My sister had to leave a Chester White pig that was given to her in the spring and we left about half of our chickens to care for themselves. Never had our com and vegetables looked more promising, and all felt very reluctant to leave our homes, but all felt that we had to do it to save our lives. We bade goodbye to our cabin and traveld on until we reached Fort Sauer Kraut There the Germans were expecting an attack at any moment, but we kept on, however, until our cattle became too weary to travel, and at 12 o'clock that night, put to camp for the first time. We kept on then until we reached Columbus. The other settlers would not slow up, but as fast as their stock would play out. they would sell it at any sacrifice. Two ladies died on the way back to Iowa, one the daughter of Jesse Shoemaker, who married Charlie Combs. She died just before reach- ing Omaha. Another lady by the name of Mrs. Haisington, died east of Council Bluffs. from nervous overstrain. On reaching Fre- mont we met a man who had a hundred tons of hay cut ready to be put in stack, and we hired out for wages, letting our cattle graze on the plains. While there a member of the town board appeared with a telegram from Digitized by JOOgRe

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HISTORY OF HALL, COUNTY NEBRASKA

President Johnson telling us to remain there. In less than ten days, hej sent soldiers to es- cort us back and to remain and protect our old settlement. At that time the Rock Island railroad had got as far west as Des Moines, so the soldiers and supply wagons were shipped to Des Moines, and in six or seven days they arrived. It turned out that they had been Confederate soldiers who had been taken prisoners by the Union army and rather than be thrown in prison, not knowing how long the war might last, they took an oath that they would not take up arms against the United States, but would enlist in the United States service to protect the frontier settlers. This caused some bitter feeling among the settlers, who took their time in following these soldiers back to the settlement, for we couldn't begin to keep up with them.

INIDANS HAD VISITED

When we got back to our cabin home our chickens had been killed and cooked in the old fire place and the bones were lying about. Our pig we never saw. It was also evident that the Indians had been at the Eldridge cabin, but we knew not why they had not burned the buildings. Most of the settlers on hearing of our protection returned to their claims that fall, and even more came in later in the year to take up claims. The more who came, the more sickness prevailed in the community and my father was kept quite busy. His charges were very moderate. His good nature, pleasant words, and good judgment, made him many friends, and his motto was, "Live and let live." If the doctors of today used the same good judgment that be used, there would be fewer operations and a great many less dope fiends. His practice grew steadily to the year 1869, when he passed to the Great Beyond. He left behind a good name and a good reputation that added to his memory for a long. time.

PRESSED INTO SERVICE AS A SCOUT

After stampede - in 1865 - though I was only a lad of 19 years of age, I was pressed nto the United States service as a scout.

Jesse Eldridge, Bill's brother, and I were put on to do this duty, and we scouted from the Jim Boyd ranch (Wood River Center, now Shelton) up to the South Loup River. We had a load to carry with us on our horses, for we had to be provided with a carbine, Colts, field glass, compass, nose bag, harness, rations, canteen, tin cup, kettle, and a whole outfit that weighed about sixty pounds. Often we had to carry this on our back for fifty-five miles a day, rain or shine. My father took the stage to Kearney and interviewed the quartermaster about having me relieved from this duty, and was informed that in view of Indian dangers, some other man would have to be provided. My father went to Fremont and found a man who offered to go for $2900.00 but my father didn't have ninety cents, and offered him a yoke of oxen, but he would not take it. Another fellow an- swered that he wasn't afraid of anything that wore hair, Indians or otherwise, and he would go for $600.00 but father couldn't do that either, so it was up to me to go. They were going to put Elridge on the west boun- dary of our territory and put me on the east boundary, but he finally convinced them that it was only right for the two boys to be to- gether. They told us if we saw any "hostiles" that we should report. Anyway we were to report to Fort Kearny every Saturday night, and there to receive rations. At one time we ran across about 400 or 500 Indian tracks and immediately rode in and reported to the quartermaster. He would not believe us, but surmised it might be buffalo or elk tracks. But the Indians had evidently moved on. Three or four days after that we came up the stream towards the Bluffs on the South Loup and saw a place where the front gears of a wagon were buried in the mud and weeds, and on searching around we found the decomposed bodies of two men who had been shot. When we came down to the fort and reported this we were informed that we were not put on as an expedition to hunt up old carcasses.

It wasn't three days after that until we ran into 400 warriors and they pretty nearly got us. The north branch of Prairie Creek ran le

. HISTORY OF HALL COUNTY NEBRASKA

through there and there was just one place that I knew we could possibly make the cross- ing. The Indians came up on us near Prairie Creek, and that frightful yell of a war whoop they gave, it was worse than the yell of a beast in the jungle; our hair stood up on its end. We knew we had only one crossing we could make on Prairie Creek, and if we failed to make that, they would get us. The water was only two or three feet wide, but there was alkali mud and if the horses got down, good night ! It was the worst place to cross imagi- nable, but with that pack back of us, we had to make it and God must have ruled over us or we never would have made it.

When we came to that point we couldn't say anything, and I gave my horse a whack on the hip and he gave a lunge and got over to the other bank. We just barely got across and didn't have a couple minutes to spare. We thought our time had come, and had made up our minds not to be taken in captivity, for we thought that meant to be burned at the stake. Luck was with us and we got across all right. We had such a scare. I never had such a feeling come over me before or since. Eldridge said I didn't look like myself and I assured him later I certainly didn't feel like myself. We rode into Jim Jackson's and our horses were pretty well jaded after that long exciting ride. There was a corporal stationed two miles west of Jim Jackson's and he happened to be at Jackson's postoffice and store for his mail, so we told him our story ; he gave us orders to ride straight through to Fort Kearny and report it at once. We notified the settlers to be on the lookout for we didn't know whether those Indians might come on down or not. We told this corporal we didn't consider ourselves bound by his orders, even if we went to guard house. Jackson had some mules there and he said, "Boys, I will take care of your horses and you take the mules and ride on and report this matter." Eldridge wasn't very fond of riding a mule. I had noticed mules hitched before, so when I got the saddle on him, I tried to mount and went up in the air. I saw five-pointed stars in every direction. Well, we went on to Kearney and reported the

matter to the quartermaster's lieutenant com- mander, and he questioned and cross-ques- tioned us. He wanted to know where we first saw those Indians and we told him a mile and half west of the big sand bluff (about where St. Michael is now) and he asked how many there were, and we told him about four hun- dred; he said, "Weren't you men just scared and imagined that many?" and I told him I didn't think so; he said, "that is a pretty big number," and asked if we counted them and I told him we didn't have time ; and he insisted, how did we know there were that many. Then he asked if we would swear to it under oath that there were more than twenty-five of those Indians. We answered that if there had only been twenty-five, after we reached Prairie Creek bottom we would have held our ground and held them at bay as long as our ammuni- tion held out, then we could have crossed Prairie Creek. He said this would be looked into and if found to be false we must take the consequences. So he detailed a sergeant and twenty of the U. S. cavalry, and they proceeded to the South Loup River ; we were to meet the sargeant and his men at the big sand bluff and receive a report on what they discovered. We arrived at the big sand bluff about 11:30. At first we saw no signs and I began to fear, and then the sergeant's horse hoved in sight pretty soon. He had five sol- diers with him, and the other sixteen had gone back. The sergeant said the one thing we hadn't been correct on was the number, there were 560 on paper, as they found it. So we returned, going around by Fred Evans's, that night, north of Wood River. Their horses were not used to this kind of a jaunt, for we covered about eighty miles that day, and the sergeant had never been in that country and he didn't think much of it as a country to be in. When we rode into Fort Kearny and a report was made, the quartermaster agreed there was an apology due us. . We were relieved by Major Frank North, who then took charge of the territory with his Pawnee scouts. We were relieved from this work and discharged. We had no regular clothing, we couldn't get money on our vouchers. They had to be en-

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HISTORY OF HALL COUNTY NEBRASKA

dorsed and taken down by the express mes- senger to the First National Bank of Omaha, where they would cash it and take a 10% discount, and the express messenger charged 5% for his collection work and delivering it. If it had had to go through another pair or two of hands we would have soon owed some- body something on it. To add to the ignomy of our whole treatment, our discharge papers never came. The records disappeared when Fort Kearny was abandoned. John Tolbert, an interpreter, tried to look the matter up for us, but he never could trace it down in the records of the department.

I might add that Tolbert was an interesting character, who lived at Dobetown, two miles southwest of Fort Kearny, and kept a feed store there. He gave me an introduction in 1864 to Buffalo Bill, and the first thing Buffalo Bill asked me was my age, and when I told him, he said we might be twins. I was twenty- six days older than he. He was born on the 28th and I was born on the 2nd of February.

On one occasion we got attacked by In- dians, and they got the rest of the family into the house and the door closed before I could reach home. I had to take refuge the first place I could find, and backed myself into a badger hole, and squeezed in so tight, I could not go either way, and didn't dare to make a move, or a tomahawk might come over my head. For fifteen minutes I could hear Indians to one side and that animal gnawing on the other. I laid there until the shades of night came on and then I heard my father's voice and he came down and pulled me out.

UNCLE SAM'S SURVEYORS

In 1866 the government sent out land sur- veyors through Nebraska and two or three of them stayed at our place for several days going over their figures. They gave us quite I little information concerning section corners ind half mile stakes and told us what, amount of labor would be necessary to provide for team boats to go up the north channel to the Platte River. This channel was called the leandering stream of the Platte River. Their

figures showed that the north channel put out ten miles east of Fort Kearny, which formed Grand Island. This channel went to the Old Long Tree Stage section. Their figures showed that Grand Island was sixty miles in its length, and ranged from half a mile to two miles and half in width. This had been known as Grand Island since the early 'fifties. In 1867 a company of surveyors came through and made three surveys, saying they were surveying for the railroad. Their second line of survey was selected for the route of the railroad.

MANY MIDDLE MEN

Woodchoppers were set to work, tie chop- pers, saw mills put in action, and timber cer- tainly flew along the track. The contracts for grading were let to some of the most noted political men, who sub-contracted them to private parties, and they in turn sub-con- tracted them. These contractors all made the money, but the men who did the work came out at the little end of the horn, but how the dirt did fly. When the day for the month's pay rolled around, the gang bosses informed the men that they would be obliged to throw off $5.00 of their wages .. Most of the men had families, and inquired what this was for and were informed it was for a reserve fund, which they were told was cus- tomary where they paid cash. If they did not consent to this, they were obliged to wait ninety days, but most of them were compellel to get it on account of their dependent fami- iles. Even at this early date the monied men, speculators, and corporations controlled all the business matters, no matter of what nature. The little farmer, and small property holders, and hard working class of people paid their bills. Dear reader, I do not take those facts from any one. I have been through the mill. I have worked for corporations and private individuals, and in every case, I have been obliged to pay them interest on what they owed me. In the fall of 1867 and the spring of '68, the working gang began to work at laying ties with a force that averaged about seven miles a day.

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HISTORY OF HALL COUNTY NEBRASKA

THE RIGHT OF WAY

Early pioneers about this time received small pamphlets, which they thought were records of bills which had passed Congress, but in fact, it was a contract between the rail- road and the government. It stated that the government would give the railroad company $15,000 for each mile of road they built through Nebraska, also every alternate sec- tion of land for 30 miles each side of this track, as also 100 feet from the center of the track on each side of the right of way. The pamphlets also stated that all parties having claims in these sections, taken before these grants were made, would be allowed to hold them, and the railroad company forced to take the same amount of land in other locali- ties. Cook Lamb's and my father's claims were the only ones that were in section 13. Years later under the Mckinley administra- tion a controversy had arisen between the gov- ernment and the railroad company in regard to the right of way, but through an act of Congress, the company was granted 400 feet of right of way instead of 200, which caused a great deal of dissatisfaction to those who had land along the line of the road as well as those who had purchased railroad land, a controversy which has raged for a long time, and is hard to tell but what money and cor- porations will again control more than their rights, and those who are looking forward to redeeming a part of the right of way, will be compelled to take their medicine in large doses.

Now a man of 73 years of age, I have been spared to live through all of these tortures and tribulations of the early pioneer days, but I have nevertheless been blessed to see this country grow from the bleak prairies and realms of Indians, buffaloes, and emigrant trails to as fine a farming country and beauti- ful region of homes as there is anywhere under the sun.

Note: A few words should be added to the foregoing sketch concerning Mr. Reese's family. Mr. Reese lived for many years on section 13, where his parents had located. In recent years he bought a small place down on

the bank of Wood River, where he and his wife are living. His sight has been impaired in recent years, and for thirteen months he was almost blinded, but treatment under Dr. Gifford's direction has given him some use of his eyes. He was married at Wood River to Catherine Matthews, and they have raised two sons and two daughters. One son, Edward Reese, resides at Elgin, Illinois, where he is engaged in the shoe manufacturing business; the other son, Joseph, resides seven miles east in Alda township; the daughters, Mrs. Delia Woodward, of Denver, Colorado, and Irene Reese, in New York City, caring for an in- valid aunt. This couple take great pride in one grandson, seventeen years of age, Syl- vester Reese, son of Joseph Reese, now work- ing for William Dristy, two miles west of their home.

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History of Hall County, Nebraska, Part 14

Author: Buechler, A. F. (August F.), 1869- editor Publication date: 1920 Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western Pub. and Engraving Co. Number of Pages: 1011

Author: Buechler, A. F. (August F.), 1869- editor
Publication date: 1920
Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western Pub. and Engraving Co.
Number of Pages: 1011