Read Ebook: History of Linn County Iowa From Its Earliest Settlement to the Present Time [1911] by Brewer Luther Albertus Wick Barthinius L Barthinius Larson

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se have been mentioned and then only incidentally. The scope of this sketch does not allow adequate individual reference to the remainder. Nor is this the place to record contemporary progress. The lives of all the present members of the profession belong not to the past but to the future history of medicine in Linn county. The attached list gives the names of the practicing physicians in Linn county in 1910:

In scarcely any locality has the material growth been so fast and substantial during the past seventy years as in Linn county. Old residents who have returned after a period of twenty-five to thirty years mention this fact, and what is true of the cities and towns is perhaps much more true of the rural districts in general.

William Abbe erected a bark cabin for the use of his family the first summer, after he came here, and built a log house that fall for his winter abode. Ed Crow, C. C. Haskins, and others also erected very frail cabins during the first year they lived within the confines of the county. John Henry, it is said, built a small store-building facing the river in the squatter town of Westport in 1838. It was a frame building about 14 x 18, scarcely high enough for any of the Oxley Brothers to enter. He also erected a small dwelling house near the store-building, which, if anything, was smaller than the store-building. All the lumber in these buildings, except the window frames and the sills, were cut in the timber adjoining the river; even the roof was cut out of rough boards, with a broad saw. The nails used were brought from Muscatine, as well as a few hinges, and the windows. These buildings were torn down in 1860. The Shepherd Tavern was also a rude log building, as was the John Young house, which was afterwards used as a hotel, with additions added later.

Mr. Carroll also speaks of the second house, which was erected the same fall on the same premises. "It was, however, not to be a common kind of a cabin, it was to be a somewhat ambitious structure for the time, in fact it was to be the best house in Linn county, and when completed, it enjoyed that distinction. It was said, that there was nothing in the county that equalled it. The dimensions of this house were 14 x 16, a story and a half high. There were in the walls of this house between fifty and sixty white oak logs, most of them quite straight and free from knots. The ends of the logs were cut off square and the corners were laid up like square blocks, care being taken to cut off enough at the ends to allow the logs to come as close together as possible so as to leave but little space for chinking and plastering when it came to the finishing up. The only boards about the entire building were in the door which I think were brought with us on top of our wagon-box, which was of extra height. The joists above and below were made of logs, the upper ones squared with a broadax. The casings of doors and windows, and the floors above and below, were made out of bass wood puncheons. Slabs were spread out of the logs and then hewn out with a broad axe and the edges were made straight by the use of the chalk line. The gable ends were sided up with clapboard rived out of oak timber three or four feet long, and then shaved off smooth like siding. The rafters were made of hickory poles trimmed off straight on the upper side, and strips three or four inches wide were nailed on the sheeting. Upon these strips shingles made of oak eighteen inches long and nicely shaven, were laid. The logs of the walls in the inside were hewn off flat, and the interstices between were shingled and plastered with lime mortar, the lime being burned by my father on Indian Creek. There were three windows below of twelve lights each, with glass 7 x 9, and a window in each of the gable ends of nine lights, which furnished light for the room above. The fire place was built up of logs on the outside and lined with stone within, and the chimney was built of sticks split out about the size of laths and plastered with clay, both inside and outside."

The description of this house gives the reader an idea of one of the most up-to-date houses built before the year 1840. During the past sixty years many commodious farm houses have been erected, having all the modern conveniences installed, such as heating, lighting, together with bath privileges connected with sanitary plumbing. It is said that the late S. C. Bever installed the first furnace in a dwelling house in Linn county, and many people came from over the county to see such a furnace work. Now, not only cities and towns, but farm residences have installed furnaces and other kinds of heating plants, so that which was a novelty fifty years ago is very ordinary today.

The farmers in Linn county early began to invest their surplus money in farm machinery. William Ure drove an ox team to Chicago and brought back a McCormick reaper, which was the first reaper brought into the county, as far as is known. At least it was the first reaper used and operated in and around Scotch Grove. The neighbors said that Ure was foolish and it would surely break him up, but inside of one season it paid for itself. In and around Stoney Point one of the first threshing machines was used; a very small machine which was staked fast on the ground, without a straw-carrier, and operated by horsepower, which was placed on the ground loose and had to be hauled from place to place on a truck. In Linn Grove, Brown township, Washington township, and in other localities, many of these crude reapers and crude threshing machines and corn shellers were seen in operation during the season. Frequently the people who purchased these early machines lost money. The machinery was not always recommended, and sometimes the farmers were not mechanics skilled enough to make repairs when needed. A number got fooled on the first wire-binders and on the check-rowers, as well as on some of the early mowing machines, and many lost heavily in early days on thoroughbred horses and full-blooded cattle. But after all, the spirit of progress was abroad in the community, and in spite of failures, it did a great thing for the people who became interested. The advent of the reaper no doubt changed farming methods in this country. It is said that "the struggle for bread ceased when the reaper was put on the market." At least it placed the struggle for existence on a higher level. Certainly when a machine was invented that could do the work of five or six men and be depended upon, such a machine was worth having, and it soon paid for itself.

The manufacturing of farm machinery in Linn county was not a financial success, as is shown by the failure of the Williams Harvester Works, the Ogden Plow Works, the Star Wagon Works, and many other enterprises, but the spirit displayed by those who were willing to put their money into these untried enterprises, showed the mettle and the ingenuity that many of these early settlers had. People profited by these failures, made a study of the subject, and in course of time these men who lost at times on some investment or purchased machinery which was not suitable to the country, became owners of magnificent farms and up-to-date farmers by long experience.

The early corn cribs and granaries were generally built of rails, the kinks filled in with straw or hay. They of course had to be rebuilt every fall, and more or less grain was wasted. The rail corn crib was superseded by long board cribs generally built on the ground without any foundation. These cribs, when empty, were generally blown about the premises and had to be hauled back and propped up before they could be used in the fall. The farmers of Linn county frequently visited in Illinois, and there found models for economical corn cribs. They also read the farm journals, and it was not long until our farmers erected the modern corn crib and granary with gasoline engines, dumps, and elevators. These cribs were substantially built on cement foundations with cement floors, and with a driveway large enough and wide enough to house several wagons and three or four buggies at one time. The early corn crib, it is true, cost little or nothing, but they were a source of expense and annoyance, and much grain was wasted. The modern corn crib, as now erected, is built for a life time, but at a cost of from two thousand to three thousand dollars, which would have been a sum impossible to raise by the early settler, who generally paid the government price on his land by disposing of skins which he prepared during the winter, and who went barefooted in summer for the reason that he had no money to buy shoes and no time to make moccasins for himself or his children.

Thus the early farmer housed his horses and cattle in straw stacks during the winter and in the timber during the summer. Sometime a hay thatched stable was erected for the use of the horses. He milked his cows out on the snow in winter, and expected them to yield a fair supply of milk on a diet of slough hay and dry corn stalks, and would drive them to water to some creek or river once a day, using an ax with which to cut a hole in the ice. These stables would leak in spring and summer and had to be rebuilt nearly every fall. All hay was stacked outside and nearly half of it would rot during the rainy season. But hay was cheaper than lumber and for that reason a man had to figure on putting up enough hay during the summer, and take into account the waste. It was not till after the Civil war that many barns were built, and then only the rich farmer could afford them. Not till the '70s and '80s did the craze for barn building come, and now nearly every farm of any size, and nearly every farmer of any financial standing, has a good substantial barn, as well as machine sheds, all of which improvements may cost from three thousand to ten thousand dollars.

In the early days many farmers were fooled or taken in on the creamery proposition, as many of these small country creameries failed. The people then began to study the cow and the cost of producing milk and butter. True the first attempts were not a success, but the butter and milk of Linn county have during the past twenty-five years made many of the farmers wealthy. It used to be, that if the cows could keep down the grocery bill that was well done, but now, many a farmer gets a monthly milk check of from fifty to seventy-five dollars, which not only pays the grocery bill, but generally the hired man as well. But then the price of butter has increased from six cents to thirty, which makes a difference. The butter has also gradually become a better quality, and is really worth more. It is taken care of now, while in the pioneer days the cream was left out doors during the hot summer and the rancid butter was placed in a shallow slough well so as to be kept cool. It was generally not fit to use and was traded at the store for dried prunes, brown sugar, and dried herring. Thus, while the farmer may not have given the merchant much, the merchant certainly did not give the farmer anything of much value in return for his farm produce.

During the past twenty years no class of people have fared better financially than the farmers, and no class of people have become more enlightened on the subject in which they are engaged than the farmers. This may be due to several reasons. The farm journals have no doubt done much in stirring up a local pride in the vocation of farming. The farm journal has taught the farmer not to be ashamed of his calling; that while he may be called a "Rube" in some localities, he is an intelligent, up-to-date, wide-awake man, who knows what is going on in the country; is familiar with political questions and interested in the welfare of the country and of the state in which he resides. During the past twenty years the farmer, especially in Linn county, has traveled much. He has attended the county and state fairs where he has seen the latest inventions in machinery. He has attended nearly all of the exhibitions held in the country from Chicago to Seattle, and has come in contact with farmers from other sections of the country as well as with financiers and men of affairs. He has traveled much on land excursions and has learned to study and understand the nature of the soil. While it is true, that these various journeys have taken some time and money, yet they have made the farmer an up-to-date man, familiar with all sides of human life, and he has discovered, after all, that he is one of the most fortunate men in the country, and financially better off than many a city brother who may wear broadcloth and a boiled shirt, but whose bank account is generally depleted. The Linn county farmer has learned during the past twenty-five years to know himself and to understand and respect the class to which he belongs. No one can become a successful person in any line of business unless he is proud of the line of work in which he is engaged. The farmer has learned this secret, and he is not ashamed to tell anyone, that he is a Hawkeye farmer, owning his own farm and caring for his own property. The Iowa farmer has kept up with the procession, and he certainly is as intelligent, as wide-awake, and as shrewd and keen as the merchant, the banker, and the professional man in his business dealings. But he came to Iowa at the proper time, and for that reason he had the advantage of the old settlers who came to New England or to Jamestown. These men came ahead of their time and before things were ripe for such settlement. The bread tools of the Virginia pioneer were the same as those of the Indians whom they despised and wanted to drive out. The first settlers of Iowa came with the advent of the reaper, when a boy fifteen years of age could cut the grain with ease, which several sturdy men had to do before with the sickle and the scythe.

We seem to think that we have had the modern inventions for ages, but the first white settlers in Linn county, whoever they may have been, knew nothing of matches; of stoves as we know them; of the telegraph or the telephone or electric lights. They did not have modern corn cultivators or stirring plows. All these so-called modern appliances have been invented since the advent of the first settler in this county. But it was not long after these inventions came into use, until some enterprising individual or firm introduced them into Linn county. It is said that it was at a Shriner meeting on the old State Fair Ground, which is now Central Park, Cedar Rapids, that electricity was first used in this county, and people came for many miles to watch this peculiar light, which some thought could only be accounted for on the ground that the operator was in close connection with the Evil One. Barnum, with his show, also exhibited electric lights to the consternation of the vast crowds that came to see his circus, and it was one of the chief attractions during the first year. People came many miles to listen and talk through a telephone, and now every up-to-date farmer has an instrument installed in his own house.

In a material way the settlers in Linn county have succeeded beyond the expectation of the most sanguine. Thrift and prosperity can be seen on every hand. The various farmers' alliances, elevator companies, banking companies, creamery companies, old settlers' unions, and all these have brought the men over the county in closer touch with each other and the farmers of the whole county have learned to appreciate the marvelous benefits derived from social intercourse. It has made them broader and more liberal minded toward one another.

The soil in Iowa is as rich today and will if well cared for produce more today than it did some forty years ago. The farmers will now devote more of their time to make the farms yield more and not in the purchase of more lands as heretofore. What the modern farmer is now up against is better markets, cheaper freight charges, more local manufacturing, and increased commercial conveniences.

For many years after the lands were taken up and cultivated the farmers were unable to get rid of their products. There were no other markets than the local ones. Robert Ellis had tried the experiment of running flat boats down the river and had returned without any profits. Holmes, the Higley Brothers, Daniels, and others built flat boats at Ivanhoe and shipped wheat in the early spring down the Cedar and made a little money. But there was more or less risk, and much labor was expended, and the returns were not always satisfactory. Many teamed and hauled dressed pork, wheat, and barley to the Mississippi river, mostly to Muscatine, but after the driver returned and figured up his expenses and the cost of a few groceries and a calico dress for the wife, he had little left with which to pay interest and tax on the land.

The farmer was kept busy in paying taxes and breaking up and fencing more land. To do these things and keep his family was all he could hope to accomplish. The business man who had come here was without funds, and interest rates were high. He could not borrow enough to carry out his scheme of factory building, as he had expected. Saw mills and grist mills were erected so as to supply the local trade with enough materials for building, and enough food to live on, but that was all. The cost of transportation was high, and the cost of anything like luxuries was so great that it was out of the question to purchase any. As late as 1855 there were no markets and no means to ship anything out except by flat boats early in the spring of the year when the water was high. N. B. Brown started the first woolen mill as early as 1848. This was later disposed of to the Bryan family, but the mill never was a real success. There was no demand for the goods and the expense was too high to ship the raw products in and the finished products out. To haul any amount in a farm wagon a hundred miles over poor roads, subject to all kinds of weather, is not a success to the hauler nor to the man who hires him.

Even after the railroad was brought to Cedar Rapids the people did not realize that there was any other but a local market for any product. During the early years of the war, from 1862-3, the people awoke to a realization that it would pay to get in touch with a larger market, and the Chicago prices on stuff began to be quoted. R. D. Stephens built an elevator at Marion and began sending corn to the river. Cattle and hogs began to go up in price, and soon the people realized that the railroad was not built to carry passengers only, but freight as well, and that on a large scale.

In 1866 the number of acres assessed was 452,486, and the land, exclusive of towns and villages, amounted to ,012,754. The assessment for Linn county in 1878 was 449,774 acres, ,127,133. The actual valuation in 1855 was about three and one-half millions, while in 1900 the taxable valuation of the county was something over twelve millions.

Butter and cheese making were at one time businesses which made the farmers much money, but not till they learned how to prepare good butter and get a market established for it. Soon agents came to Iowa looking over the crops, and presently few towns were without local agents who handled stock and grain on a commission basis.

Henceforth it was the Chicago market and not the local market that governed, and the railroads were loaded down many seasons of the year in hauling train load after train load of corn and wheat and cattle and hogs, the property of the Iowa farmers. Iowa became in a short time the food producing state in the Mississippi Valley and has so remained till this day.

It was the productiveness of the soil, the manner in which the soil was prepared and the prices for farm products that made the land valuable. And it was the outside market that made farm produce worth the price it was for a local market cannot do this. The Chicago market has become the world market on many commodities, and lucky is the person who owns lands within a safe radius of such a market.

The rural life of the pioneers in Linn county was much the same as it was in any of the adjoining counties in eastern Iowa. The settlers were intelligent, young, active, and enthusiastic, believing in the future of the new State. The men were able to do nearly all kinds of mechanical work without any help or assistance, while the women were equally dextrous in spinning, weaving, and doing all kinds of house work. They were all clad in homespun and no false standards were maintained by the so-called well-to-do.

Wheat was the product for many years until the pest took it, and Indian corn was grown. It was soon found that wheat was expensive to raise, as seed was high, the cost of harvesting expensive, and frequently a shower or a storm when the wheat was ripe destroyed a great deal of it, so the farmer's summer work at times would be entirely gone. It cost less to raise corn, and in course of time a market was found for it, although it scarcely ever sold for more than 30 cents a bushel.

"In ye olden times" master and servant had no trouble. They ate at the same table, worked side by side during the day, and it was a sort of partnership affair throughout the season from the early spring until the crops were gathered in the fall. During the entire season the hired man had handled scarcely a dollar and he had taken up at the village store on credit in the master's name goods that would not exceed in value ten or fifteen dollars. While it has been often stated that in the pioneer days the men were overworked and underpaid, which might be true in part, still during these formative years, when everything was new, and there were no classes, all settlers were on the same level--socially and financially. It was not long until the hired man had worked long enough to get sufficient money to make a first payment on a farm, and in a few years the renter became a land owner and well fixed.

The scattered settlers during the early years of their residence in Linn county relied on their own ingenuity for everything they needed; thus, they were their own blacksmiths, cabinet makers, carpenters, tanners, stone masons, and shoe makers. They would tan their own leather, shoe their own horses and oxen, make their own crude harness, and get along and be satisfied. While they would depend on the village blacksmith and on the wagon maker, roads were impassable in the spring of the year and a yoke of oxen was not the swiftest means of getting to and from a town twenty-five or thirty miles away. Hence a farmer who had any ingenuity at all, would rather do his own work in a crude way, than have to go to town to get anything repaired which was broken.

Much amusement was also had in the early days in the various communities where men and women enjoyed meeting together at social functions. There were quilting bees, spelling schools, barn raisings, log rolling, debating schools, singing schools, and many other gatherings which frequently ended with a barn dance or a house warming supper, provided by the host and hostess.

The winter season in "ye olden times" was not an easy time of it by any means, for the pioneers went to the timber early in the morning and would stay all day and until late at night, cutting wood, making rails and getting big logs to the saw mills. It mattered not what was the kind of weather, the young man would start off to the timber with the thermometer frequently at from twenty-five to thirty below zero. Sometimes it would be pleasant in the morning when they started out, but frequently a severe blizzard would come up before night, and many were the frozen hands and ears they would bring home to thaw out late at night, having been out all day in the most severe weather. But as soon as it was over it was forgotten, and the next day or the next week the young man would again repeat the same performance.

While the men were strong, active, and hardworking, the women were equally active, persevering and industrious. The girls always took care of the milk and butter; the straining of the milk was done by the slough well or in a dark mud cellar, with no stone in it, and which always kept caving in until the entire house had to be put on pillars. The wife frequently had the family washing out by sunrise and the hired girl, if the family could afford one, would work side by side with her mistress and would do both inside and outside work if needed. No one was afraid to work: in fact they were all proud of what they had accomplished.

There were not many varieties of dishes on the table in pioneer days, and still the settlers had plenty of good, wholesome food, and were always hungry. Salt pork, johnny cake, honey, and game were the customary foods of the farmer in ye olden times. They scarcely ever tasted fresh meat from spring until fall, unless some of the boys shot a little game now and then. The settlers were companionable, good natured, and contented. They traded cattle, horses, mules, and at times farms, only now and then would trouble arise as one would accuse another of smart dealings, and a lawsuit would ensue. It is related of an itinerant preacher who purchased a yoke of oxen from one of the deacons in the church, that while he was testing the oxen on a hot Sunday driving to church with his family, the yoke squatted down in a mud hole and remained there and it was impossible to move them at all. The preacher spied the deacon coming to church and was not slow in telling him what he thought of him as well as the oxen he had sold him. The deacon was not at all worried but replied, "parson, you must not forget to swear at 'em, that is the only thing they know," and drove on as though not at all offended by the remarks of the preacher.

In the early days the farmers had no cisterns, no wind mills, no deep wells. Rain water was gathered in barrels which dried up in summer and froze solid in winter, so the house wife had scarcely any rain water either summer or winter. The well was generally a ten foot shallow well dug down by the slough, poorly planked, and frequently it caved in; another well was dug much in the same manner as the old one, the new well soon meeting with the same ending as the former one.

There were few, if any, barns in the olden times and straw thatched sheds and stables were universally used. These stables were moved frequently for the reason that the farmers failed to haul out the manure which accumulated, finding that it was easier and cheaper to move the stable than to haul away the manure. Nearly all of the hay was stacked out doors and had to be cut and hauled away in order to be fed to the cattle.

The farmers were slow and backward in many things. They possessed no spirit of restlessness and took things coolly, relying, it seems, on the old adage which says that "he who drives with oxen also gets there." While they early built fairly good houses, they were slow in erecting buildings and comfortable places for their horses and cattle, and it was many years before they began to erect sheds and buildings for their machinery. Wagons without spring seats sold at from 0.00 to 5.00; reapers and mowing machines were very expensive and they were generally only a few of these in each neighborhood. The household furniture was cheap and simple; there were no such things as furnaces or hard coal burners. Mostly old stoves were in use for the burning of wood, and these perhaps were second hand, or at least had seen better days.

The young man in pioneer days generally started out in life with an ox team, a breaking plow, and a wagon. The wages for breaking were from .00 to .00 an acre, and when he was not breaking he would often be running a threshing machine or working in the saw mill or in the timber getting out logs. When ox teams were used for breaking, it took one to drive and one to hold the plow in the ground. A person generally broke more land than he could fence, and it was no use to sow wheat and not fence, for in those days the law permitted cattle and horses to run at large.

Corn was not cultivated on the new ground to any extent, except that each one raised enough corn for his own use but no more. The corn was generally put in by hand, plowed only once or twice with a single shovel plow pulled by one old nag.

In the early days all the cooking was done by the open fireplace; such an article as a stove was not much known. Corn bread and pork, with rye coffee, formed the average bill of fare at the wayside inn and at the farm house. The boarders actually preferred pork to venison; they got tired of game--it was so plentiful. Many a pioneer farmer could shoot from five to ten deer near his door before breakfast.

In ye olden times nearly everyone would attend church, especially in summer. While many did not belong to any church, yet they were all interested in it. They supported the churches to the best of their ability. The influence of the country church did much in making this a county which still shows the effect of the early training and of the efforts of itinerant preachers and laymen who went from place to place visiting the scattered congregations. Such preachers as Troup, Searles, Ingham, J. Hodges, Hayden, Twing, Maxin, Dudley, Rankin, Boal, Cunningham, Keeler, Phelps, Roberts, Jones, Elias Skinner, Father Emmons and many of the early itinerant ministers did much to build up churches in this county. Then there were a number of laymen in various denominations who maintained in part some of the associations themselves, such as Tom Lewis, Levi Lewis, Chandler Jordan, Henry Rogers, and the Kurtzes, Runkles, Shueys, and many of the early settlers in and around Lisbon. The community around Mt. Vernon was also much influenced by the college atmosphere and by the itinerant preachers who visited the scattered members in Franklin township. These are only a few of many such communities where an interest was kept up in the small country churches where large congregations gathered weekly for meditation and for prayer. Many old pioneer families did much to help the church.

One can converse with the old pioneer now, and he still loves to recall the old times, the old haunts and the wayside places. It was by some rail fence that a rural maiden had whispered to him as a young man, that the pain in her heart no human touch but his own could heal. It was here loved ones had spoken as they chattered away in childish whispers, when he came home from ended labors, and it was here that he took his family on Sunday to the little church where they all bowed silently in prayer, full of the faith and the hope which made his heart strong and his footsteps light. The simple mode of living in Linn county in an early date made strong men and courageous women. They were brought up to withstand the temptations of life and to despise the false veneer of a later generation. They lived up to the ideals of their way of thinking, and left sturdy families who grew up in the simple ways of the pioneer, themselves dutiful sons and daughters of the old settlers who came here in any early day to make homes for themselves and their descendants.

Truly, the pioneers should be remembered for what they accomplished, for well might they sing with the poet:

"Fading away like the stars of the morning, Losing our light in the rising sun; Thus would we pass from the earth and its toiling Only remembered by what we have done."

What promised to have been a war to death in Linn county in the early '40s terminated because one of our old settlers, then a young man, said what he knew to be the fact and was willing to back it up with force. The interesting story is as follows: Political dissension had prevailed in Canada since 1820, and an open rebellion broke out in 1837. In lower Canada it began among the French settlers who wanted equality and their rights as Frenchmen, while in upper Canada it was brought about by leaders of the radical party insisting on a democratic form of government. The rebellion was lead by Lyon Mackenzie, a native of Scotland who had taken up journalism in Canada. The spirit of rebellion extended also into the United States, and many so-called filibusters joined the insurrectionists from a spirit of adventure. The papers mentioned in lengthy articles these so-called leaders, one especially being given much notoriety, one William Johnson, who, after the rebellion was put down, lived on one of the Thousand Islands in the St. Lawrence and evaded capture. His daughter, Kate, it was said, brought him food and the soldiers were unable to locate the hiding place of this rebel who defied the government militia.

Robert Ellis met this so-called Bill Johnson at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, in 1842. Johnson asserted with a great deal of gusto that he had escaped from the Islands and was going to make his home among the free people out on the borders. He was accompanied by a woman he claimed to be his daughter who received as much attention as the valiant soldier himself. Johnson drifted into Ft. Atkinson and finally located on a claim two miles above Quasqueton, on the north bank of the Wapsie river. Here he became a sort of feudal lord, told exaggerated stories about his valor, and was surrounded by a number of frontier soldiers who claimed to have fought in the war of 1812, as well as in the Canadian rebellion. For a time Captain Bill Johnson was idolized as no other person in this part of Iowa, and it is certain that his daughter Kate was laid siege to by more than one border hero under the guise of suitor.

It was not long until the arrogant ways of Captain Bill Johnson, who jumped a claim, offended an old settler by the name of Henry Bennett, who resided near Quasqueton, and who was one of the first settlers in that community. Attempted arrests were made pro and con, but the Bennett party was successful and they drove Captain Johnson out of the community, after a sound flogging. He drifted into Marion and put up at the Phillips Hotel, telling stories of Bennett's abuse, how his property had been taken, and how he had been driven out of the county like a criminal. He wanted redress. The good people of Marion believed these stories, and soon a company was organized and provided with weapons of war to surround Bennett and demand restitution. A number of the old settlers of Marion were mustered into this company, such as George Patterson, Col. Durham, and others of the well known residents. It was in the winter of 1843, but that did not keep any of the company away from a forced march to Quasqueton. Bennett had friends and admirers also, and being made aware of the proposed attack he fortified his camp, laid in a supply of food, and had his guns ready. The attacking party demanded restitution, but the old man shook his head and told them to come on. The besiegers had to camp out, while Bennett's followers were well housed and warm. Finally the attacking army ran out of provisions, and after a council of war in which the peace loving spirit prevailed, they decided to return to the quiet haunts of Marion.

Johnson still kept up his abuse of Bennett and his friends, and when that did not satisfy would resort to tales of his wonderful escapades on the St. Lawrence and how he had evaded the British officers with the assistance of his daughter, Kate. The good people at first entertained him as a guest, and he was always willing to accept of their hospitality, but stories were circulated that this so-called daughter, Kate, was not his daughter at all. But Bill Johnson still remained, having a number of supporters.

One night Robert Ellis entered the Phillips Hotel while Johnson was heaping abuse on the Bennett party and on the courts of Iowa, telling Gen. James Wilson, who was surveyor-general of the territory, the story of his abuse. He said, that the day before he and his crowd had tracked Bennett as far as Delhi where the party escaped, being assisted by William Abbe, a prominent settler of Linn county. This was too much for Ellis, and he replied as follows: "That is not true, as Wm. Abbe drove from Ft. Atkinson with me, and we arrived in Marion today, and we were together all of the time." Johnson was full of "wrath and cabbage." He arose and in a much injured manner said, "You might as well call me a liar as to say that," to which Ellis replied, "If that suits you any better I can call you a liar, because that is what you are, if you want us to believe what you have been saying here tonight. You have been telling lies about my friend Abbe." Johnson pulled off his coat and was about to strike him, when Mr. Ellis spied a hickory stick in the wood box. With that he went after Johnson, who quietly retreated, put on his coat, engaged in conversation with Wilson, and the matter for the time dropped. The story leaked out that this Canadian boaster was nothing but a coward, and there were grave doubts as to whether or not he was the person he claimed to be. Finally so much opposition arose against him that he left Marion--much to the satisfaction of the people of the county for they had seen and heard things which reflected against Johnson's relations with his so-called daughter.

In 1849 Robert Ellis drifted into the gold camps of Sacramento Valley on the American river, and who should he find out there but the daughter of Bill Johnson, now the wife of one of the miners. He learned that Bill Johnson had drifted into Southern Iowa and Missouri, where he assumed his old attitude, expecting free board and considerable consideration, but the pioneers in that community had to be "shown" and cared not much for what Johnson had been; the question was what he was then. A suitor in Mahaska county came to see his alleged daughter, but Bogus Johnson opposed and threatened him with dire disaster if he came within shooting distance. The suitor was not at all scared, having lived on the frontier longer than Johnson. The woman may have regretted the double life she had been living, and perhaps with her assistance--no one knows--Johnson was killed in a quarrel by the suitor, it was alleged, and prosecutions followed. The suitor and Kate after a long trial then drifted to California, and there Robert Ellis found them and heard the story that Captain Bill Johnson, once the terror of this part of Iowa, was a bogus Bill Johnson, and the light haired Kate was not the Kate of story and fiction at all. If it had not been for the obstreperous Bennett on the Wapsie and for the hickory stick in the hands of Robert Ellis bogus Bill Johnson might have terrorized this community much longer than he did.

Another story was also told shortly after Johnson left by one of Johnson's henchmen, an old soldier, which shows the bad character and disposition of Johnson. William Abbe, one of the early settlers, and at one time a member of the legislature of Iowa, being in the employ of the government, having a contract to deliver provisions at Ft. Atkinson, was about to return to his home in Linn Grove, which fact was known to Johnson. The soldier related after Johnson's hasty departure that he and Johnson had entered into an agreement to blackmail Abbe and get some money out of him by inviting Abbe to remain in the Johnson cabin over night and then to threaten Abbe that he had assaulted the daughter of Johnson while accepting of his hospitality. Johnson was to remain in hiding while the soldier was set out on the trail to watch for Abbe and invite him to the cabin. This was done and the soldier sat out in the timber watching for Abbe during the afternoon and evening, but fortunately Abbe failed to make his appearance as expected and the deep laid plan fell through.

Bill Johnson, whatever he may have been, was certainly an expert in his line and seemed to ingratiate himself into the good graces of many prominent people. He obtained the assistance and help of Governor Chambers, as well as Surveyor-General James Wilson, and many others in the various law suits which he had with the members of the Bennett party. General Wilson, as is well known, was a native of New Hampshire and on account of the personal friendship of Daniel Webster had been appointed to this office by President Harrison. Webster had intended to slate his friend Wilson for Governor of Iowa, but Harrison had appointed his private secretary and former aide-de camp, Colonel John Chambers. Thus General Wilson had to accept the only vacancy left, that of surveyor-general. On his trip over Iowa, General Wilson was accompanied by his daughter, Mary E. Wilson, better known as Mrs. John Sherwood, who later became one of the best known writers and society women on two continents. It was at Marion, according to the report of Robert Ellis, that Johnson first met General Wilson and that the friendship sprang up between them, and it seemed as though Johnson had known a number of Wilson's relatives and a great many of the prominent men in New England. It is thought, of course, that Johnson imposed upon General Wilson and no doubt used the names of parties he had known of in some way to further his own selfish purposes.

"A Mahaska county murder case of Job Peck, the murderer of Wm. Johnson, came here on a change of venue September 9, 1843; it was a melodrama: A cultivated Canadian revolutionist, a beautiful girl Kit claiming to be his daughter, horsethieves, etc., being the personae dramatis, an elopement and kidnapping constituting the action of the piece. The Canuck was shot in his cabin and a lover of Kit was held for the crime. Kit was spirited to Pittsburg, Pa., and the lover proved an alibi; he had married Kit near Fairfield. While in jail here he did not know his bride's whereabouts nor for several months after, but he finally found her with fine people. They lived near Oskaloosa for years when they went to California. Who she was, was never known; she denied that Johnson was her father; he may have been her husband. After Peck's death she married again and had a noble family and was called the Queen of the Thousand Isles--in oil business. Johnson was the subject of state correspondence between the United States and England. A British subject, he revolted, turned renegade and spy in 1812, and robbed the mails to get information. Both countries offered a reward for him and he fled to the Isles."

How much truth there is in the above it is difficult to say. It is at least based on hearsay. Colonel Durham knew Johnson well and was one of his friends in the Quasqueton affair, and Robert Ellis also knew him, as well as the members of the Abbe family. Whether Johnson was a Canadian or a citizen of the United States or had anything to do with the war of 1812 is uncertain. At least in Linn county he claimed to be the Bill Johnson of Canadian fame. For that reason he introduced this young woman as his daughter to carry out the story, as the original Johnson did have a daughter who carried news as well as food to him in his hiding.

"The young swains, and especially the editorial gallants, who were so greatly enamored with the charms of Miss Katherine Johnson while in our city, often rallied each other afterwards on the subject; and some who appeared from their newspaper eulogies to be the most moon-struck while the romance lasted, and had written the largest amount of very soft poetry on the lovely daughter of the hero of the Thousand Isles, were the first to forget the object of their adoration. Alas for the fickleness of man's affection and the mutability of his attachments."

The above tells the story of how much trouble the various communities in Iowa had with bogus Bill Johnson and the various interpretations of the life and character of the outlaw and his alleged daughter. Mr. Ellis still insists that his interpretation of the life and character of this outlaw is as he tells it and no one perhaps knew the principal characters better than he did. Mr. Ellis was the first one who met Johnson in Wisconsin as he was about to emigrate into Iowa. He was one of the actors in the occurrence at the Phillips House in Marion, he was the old friend and companion of William Abbe and knew most of the men in the Bennett party, such as Evans, Parrish, Rowley, and others, and he met in California many years afterwards the heroine who had become the wife of Peck and there had a conversation with both of them. Mr. Ellis is of the opinion that when Johnson suddenly left Marion he went, to Missouri and later drifted back into Mahaska county, Iowa, where he was murdered. It was thought that Kate knew more about the murder than she let on, but living a life as she had lived it would not be best for her to tell all she knew of the various transactions with her so-called father. So far as Mr. Ellis ascertained Kate had reformed and carried herself in goodly repute among the miners of the far west where she was then known, it is said, at times as the Queen of the Thousand Isles. Her husband, it is stated, was a reputable person and had always stood well in the community up to the time of the Johnson murder, and what part, if any, he took in that no one ever knew.

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