Part 63 (2/2)

Not liking the place, I rode west and crossed the Mississippi at Quincy and went to Kirksville in Missouri.

Still not pleased, I turned north and went to Ottumwa, Iowa, where I met Judge Greene, then a member of the supreme bench of Iowa. He persuaded me that Cedar Rapids was in the near future to become a metropolis, and I decided to go there.

After four days' hard riding and swimming several swollen streams, I struck the town on the afternoon of the 14th of June, 1849. I crossed the river on a rope ferry operated by David King, who lived in a cabin on the west side. On the other side of the river stood the cabin once the home of a man named Shepherd, and said to have been the resort of thieves in an earlier day. I cannot say that I was very favorably impressed by the thirty or forty mostly one-story unpainted houses that were scattered about near the river.

There seemed to be a great deal of sand, and the houses were so situated that there was no sign of a street. There were three two-story houses, one on the river near the foot of what is now Third avenue, called the 'Park house,' in which the Greenes had their store; one on second street in which John Coffman kept a hotel, and one on Third avenue, back of the Dows & Ely block, also a hotel, but keeper's name forgotten. I was discouraged and would have traveled further but only had about ten dollars left, and from necessity had to stop. I put up at the Coffman hotel, which, as I have said, was a two-story structure with a wing. It had been built of unseasoned oak lumber and was not plastered. The whole of the second story of the main building was in one room, and contained eight or ten beds and was the common sleeping room of the guests. The lumber had shrunk and there could be no complaint as to ventilation, however short the accommodations might be in other respects. I had hardly got settled before I was interviewed by old Joe Leverich, a noted character of Linn county of that day. He was known as the 'Bogus c.o.o.n,' because, as was alleged, he had to do with counterfeiters. He was a power in politics and was the kind of a man from which the modern 'pop' has evoluted. Joe looked me over, asked where I was from, where I was going, what my business was, etc., etc. I was somewhat indignant and tried to be sarcastic, but Joe, in terminating his interview, squelched me by remarking: 'Young man, a fellow that wears such a hat as you do may pa.s.s in this country, but I consider it d--d doubtful.' I unfortunately wore a 'plug' hat which was not the style in Iowa a half century ago. In subsequent years Joe and I became fast friends, and I became quite convinced that the shady stories told of him were the talk of enemies who were jealous of him because he was smarter than the great majority of them. I was with him when he died, and, although a free-thinker, he pa.s.sed away with all the calmness of a stoic philosopher.

”Within a week I made the acquaintance of all the people of the town. Among the leading persons were William and Joseph Greene, brothers of the judge, Lowell and Lawson Daniels, Homer Bishop and John Weare, all of whom were merchants.

The three stores of which they were the proprietors would not compare well with the department stores of today, but all the same they were department stores, and in their miscellaneous stocks the customer could find all he wanted, from castor oil to broad-axes. Pollock & Stewart were the blacksmiths, and the carpenters and wagon-makers were also represented, but I cannot recall their names.

”Dr. Mansfield took me as a partner, and in company with Judge Cook, we had a room, 1016, in a small one-story building opposite the mill, the other part being occupied by S. L. Pollock and family. His blacksmith shop was near by.

Our medicines were kept on a shelf and a store box made a table. Our bunks occupied one side and a few stools and two split-bottomed chairs made up our furniture. We took our meals at the Coffman house. Our field of practice embraced the settlers, not numerous, in the valleys of the Cedar and Iowa rivers and their tributaries. We made very long rides.

I was called to see a patient two miles above the present town of Vinton, not then begun. I got lost in the night and waited for daylight under a tree on the bank of the river at the very spot where Vinton now stands. Bilious fever and ague were the prevailing diseases, all the newcomers having to undergo one or both. As patients and clients were not very numerous, we had a good deal of leisure. Judge Cook was a fine reader and we took turns at Shakespeare, a copy of which we fortunately possessed. During the summer Dr.

Mansfield and myself built a story and half office on Commercial street, about the middle of the block on which the Daniels store was located. We had a mail three times a week from Dubuque and Iowa City. The Higley brothers did the service in a two-horse hack. I think Joseph Greene was postmaster. John Weare, Sr., was justice of the peace. He was a very original character, fond of company and full of interesting reminiscences extending back to the war of 1812, in which he had lost a leg. His small office was in the rear of Mrs. Ely's residence, which stood on the ground where the Dows & Ely block now is. He gave 'nicknames' to many people and places which stuck to them like burrs. The first Presbyterian or Congregational church building was begun that summer, and as the walls were built of cement, old Mr.

Weare named it the 'Muddy,' which it retained to the last day of its existence. Many buildings were put up that year with a corresponding increase in population. All the people were full of hope and ambition. We began to talk of railroads. The people of Dubuque and Keokuk, the leading river towns, started a scheme for a road running through the interior and connecting them. The people along the line, at Cascade, Anamosa, Marion, Cedar Rapids, Was.h.i.+ngton and Fairfield eagerly endorsed the project, meetings were held and it was resolved to hold two delegate conventions, on the same day, one at Anamosa, the other at Fairfield. We had a rousing meeting in Cedar Rapids. There were nearly a hundred people present, and they resolved to have the railroad forthwith. From our standpoint it was the government's duty to donate land, and for eastern people to furnish the money.

Delegates were chosen to both conventions. Dr. John F. Ely and myself were selected to go to Fairfield. Both conventions were to be held on the 6th of December, 1849. We left Cedar Rapids on the 3d of December and after three days' hard and cold travel reached Fairfield. Marion sent Col. I. M. Preston and Dr. Ristine. The convention met in a small school house. All the counties were represented. The Hon. C. W. Slagle, of Fairfield, then a very young man, was chosen president. I was chosen secretary. The little school house was packed, and if any doubt the courage and scope of that convention, let him look up the old file of newspapers of that day and read. Dr. Ballard, of Iowa City, Stewart Goodsel, of Brighton, Joseph Casey, of Keokuk county, and General Van Plank Van Antwerp were present and took active part. We parted for our various homes, thinking the work half done, but sad to relate, Cedar Rapids had to wait ten years longer for the locomotive. These two meetings were, as I think, the first railroad conventions held in the interior of the state. Soon opposition schemes were started for east and west lines, and our project was ignominiously called the 'Ram's Horn.' The next year was quite a stirring one. New people were coming in great numbers, but many were leaving, for the California fever had broken out. Several outfits left Cedar Rapids, and with one of them Dr.

Mansfield, my partner, whose place was taken by Dr. S. C.

Koontz, a cousin of mine, one well known to the old citizens. That year the first brick buildings were erected, a dwelling on Iowa avenue near Greene's opera house, and a three-story building on Commercial street, by Judge Greene, which for a long time was the show building of the town. We began to put on city airs.

”At this time Martin L. Barber was mayor of the village. It was before the present city organization. Barber was an eccentric character, a millwright by trade. He was nearly as wise as Solomon, with courage to match. A 'bad man' came to the town. He hung about the saloon. It was said he drew a knife and threatened to kill a citizen. The majesty of the law was invoked. It was night. The offender took refuge in the saloon and barricaded the door. The mayor called out the 'posse commitatus' numbering two or three dozen young fellows like myself. He pounded on the door, demanding admittance in the name of the law. No response. We got a piece of timber and battered down the door. The mayor collared the 'bad man' who offered no resistance. He was hurried towards the Coffman house, where the mayor proposed to deal out justice. As we neared the hotel he tore loose from the mayor and made for the river. We in full cry in pursuit. He plunged in just below the mill. We paused at the brink. Gradually he disappeared, and was never seen afterwards. It was the first and last exhibition of the mayor's power.

”In 1850 Miss Mary S. Legare, sister of the Hon. Hugh S.

Legare of South Carolina, came to Cedar Rapids. She was a woman of the highest culture, who had moved much in the official circles of Was.h.i.+ngton, and had considerable wealth.

With her came numerous relatives named Bryan, Storey, and McIntosh, the latter a well known lawyer of the early days.

She made investments in the town and took up large tracts of land. In the spring of that year we had a very spirited election. The people were divided into two factions, the 'codfish' and the 'catfish.' For mayor the former nominated N. B. Brown, the latter Jacob Bressler. I cannot recall the issues, but only remember that we almost came to blows during the canva.s.s. Less than one hundred votes were cast and Brown was elected. Brown was one of the original owners of the town site, and built the first mills. He was one of the prominent characters in the early history of the town, a modest, quiet, but genial man, with many friends.

”This year, on the 6th of July, I did one of the few wise acts of my life. I married Sarah Weare, the daughter of John Weare, Sr. We went to housekeeping in a small one-story house, near where the old pa.s.senger depot stood. It was then the only house east of the present railroad. The next year, 1851, was a very active one for the town. Judge Greene, who had lived in Dubuque, moved to the town. The same year came S. C. Bever, who had driven in a two-horse buggy from Holmes county, Ohio, to Cedar Rapids. By this time I considered myself an old citizen, thoroughly identified with the county and town, and devoted all my leisure time to meeting strangers and exploiting the town and county. I met Mr.

Bever soon after his arrival and spent several days with him riding about the country. He made large investments both in country and town. One was 160 acres about a mile from the ferry, at $5.00 per acre. I made the sale for Mr. Addison Daniels of Marion, who was so pleased with my effort that he presented me with a four-bladed penknife. Both Mr. Daniels and myself were satisfied and I have never heard that Mr.

Bever regretted the purchase. That same year my father, Mr.

Gabriel Carpenter, came out to see the country. After great effort on my part and many misgivings on his, he purchased of Mr. Levi Lewis 300 acres of land adjoining the town plat on the south, for which he paid $2,500. The land embraced the present cemetery. By this time Judge Greene had completed his three-story building, into which the Greene Bros. placed a large stock of goods. The most of their stock was brought up the river in a keel boat of forty or fifty tons capacity. It was rigged with a large square sail, but the princ.i.p.al power was men with poles, who shoved it against the current. They had loaded it with pork and sent it down the river in the spring.

”In 1851 occurred the great flood. Most of the lower parts of the town were under water. The grand lodge met that year at Ft. Madison, and at the time the river was at its highest point. We were cut off from all the neighboring country by the swollen streams, but the lodge thought it must be represented and I was chosen as the delegate. N. B. Brown suggested that I should go down the river in a skiff to a point opposite Muscatine, then by land to that place, which is only ten or twelve miles distant, then by steamer to Ft.

Madison. The lodge furnished the skiff. I found a companion.

We embarked in the morning and so swift was the current that we reached our destination by nightfall, and I was on time for the meeting. At the meeting I renewed my acquaintance with the grand master and the grand secretary, and met many brethren who became lifelong friends.

”In the spring of 1852 a steamboat came to Cedar Rapids. It was a great event, and brought in people from near and far.

She brought a full cargo of freight, among which was the household effects of Mr. Bever and my father, both of whom from that time forward became citizens of the town. This year also came Mr. Daniel O. Finch with a printing press and forthwith started the _Progressive Era_, the first paper in the Cedar valley. Ezra Van Metre, a talented young lawyer from Cincinnati, Ohio, also came that year. Every one was rejoiced that we had an organ and the editor was overwhelmed with original matter. There were at least a dozen young fellows in the town, myself among the rest, who thought they 'knew it all,' and anxiously rushed into print. The paper changed hands in a year or two, and became the _Cedar Valley Times_ and continued until a few years ago.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FEDERAL BUILDING, CEDAR RAPIDS]

[Ill.u.s.tration: AUDITORIUM, CEDAR RAPIDS]

”In the winter of 1852 I had a serious time in a professional way. A young man living at Quasqueton, Buchanan county, was riding across the prairie near that place and met a bear. The bear fled and he pursued. In crossing a strip of ice the horse fell. He was thrown and his foot stuck in the stirrup and he was dragged four miles over the snow, which was about six inches deep. In the mad flight the horse kicked and broke his right leg below the knee in two places. Finally the saddle turned, his foot was released and he was dropped on the lone prairie. The horse found his way home with saddle under his belly. This was on the evening of the 17th of December. A search was organized, but he was not found till the 21st, four days after the accident.

Fortunately the weather was not as cold as it sometimes gets, but his hands and feet were badly frozen. Cedar Rapids, about thirty-five miles distant, was the nearest point where doctors could be found. I was sent for and went by the way of Marion, and took with me Dr. Thomas Bardwell, who was then a student in Dr. Ristine's office. There was a road to Center Point. There we struck across the prairie to Quasqueton, eighteen miles distant, without a house. We reached there the evening of the 23d, nearly frozen ourselves, for the weather was bitterly cold. They had got the young man thawed out, but in a most miserable condition.

Mortification had set in, and there was no chance for the broken leg. Immediate amputation was the only hope, but I had no instrument but a small pocket case, and delay would be fatal. Necessity is the mother of invention. A butcher had just come to the place and had his tools. He sharpened his knives and filed his saw. A strong handkerchief was twisted, a knot made in the middle, which was placed over the main artery. It was tied tightly and a strong stick thrust under it and twisted till the circulation was shut off. Then with the butcher's tool I amputated the thigh four inches above the knee. Dr. Bardwell administered chloroform, which fortunately we had taken with us, and he encouraged me by word and deed. The young fellow, who was about 21, had never been sick a day in his life, rallied well and improved for about a week, but the other leg, which we hoped to save, began to mortify and there was nothing left but to amputate it. In the meantime we heard of a doctor about thirty miles away, in the direction of Dubuque, who had a case of instruments. I sent to borrow them. He refused to lend them but came back with the messenger and insisted, as he owned the instruments, he should perform the operation. That was not professional, but as I thought the patient had not more than one chance in ten to recover, I was not unwilling to divide the responsibility; so he amputated the other leg below the knee. During that winter I made eight trips between Cedar Rapids and Quasqueton on horseback, and the fellow recovered. He was the son of a well-to-do farmer in Harrison county, Ohio. His father came out in the spring, stole his son away without paying the doctors or the man in whose house he had been during recovery, and to carry ingrat.i.tude still further he procured a Methodist preacher to write his life, in which I was depicted as an ignorant butcher. This book he peddled about Ohio in person. I confess that when I heard he had been sent to the penitentiary for committing an aggravated rape I was not very sorry. This experience rather disgusted me with the practice of medicine in a new country. I was, however, in a way compensated, for I sent a history of the case to the New York _Tribune_, and its publication gave me quite a reputation as a fearless surgeon and thereafter I was called when surgery was required. As I have said before, I was in the habit of showing strangers about the country who wanted to buy land. In that way I became familiar with choice lots of vacant land. Greene and Weare dealt in land warrants, which they sold on a credit at three per cent per month interest. I knew of a section of land in the Iowa river bottom that I thought I should be able to sell. I borrowed the land warrants, entered the section and in less than two months had sold it for $3 per acre cash. That settled the matter. By one transaction I had made more than I had done in any year's practice. I sold out my medicines to Dr.

<script>