Notes
Note N1967
Index
His family appears in 1870 Atchison county, Missouri census, Buchanan township, family #12. His age is given as 55, occupation as farmer, value of real estate as $24000 and personal property of $5000. His birthplace is listed as Delaware. In addition to seven children, five farm laborers are listed as living at his residence.
His family also appears in the 1860 census for the same location, but does not appear in the 1850 census or the 1880 census.
Atchison county, Missouri is in the extreme northwest corner of the state. This makes it easier to understand how some of the children might be born in Iowa and how it could have been that Otis was able to meet Minta in Fremont county, Iowa.
Possibly helpful references:
"Back to Missouri" by Marilyn Moore 977.8 D2mm
"Early Times of Atchison County, Missouri" by Audrey Van Leuven 977.8113
Note: According to a letter dated 21 Jan 1994 from Phyllis Heath of the
"Northwest Missouri Genealogical Society, William and Susan are
not listed in this book.
--From Eva M Gayler, PO Box 25, Rockport, Mo 64482 comes copies of two pages from "History of Atchison County", pages 873-874. Those pages include the following comments: 'In 1850, came William Lewis from the State of Ohio. He settled in the neighborhood of Sacramento City, near the Narrows, and during the war of the rebellion, was a noted character, engaging in acts of lawlessness to which reference will be found in the criminal record.'
The description of Sacramento City is as follows. 'It was, for the period and locality, a noted business center and an important steamboat landing. It, at one time, contained about a dozen houses. The Rev. J. F. Duncan, who laid out the town, was the first to sell goods in the place. Some time after, J. T. Davis, afterwords a prominent business man and banker of the city of Hamburg, Iowa, sold goods there. Mike Toulan kept the first saloon in the place. some time after Charles Zachariah sold whiskey there. Sacramento City never had a blacksmith shop nor a post office. A large two story warehouse, which was built by Jacob McKissock, at El Paso Landing, was afterwords moved to Hamburg, Iowa. Sacramento afforded, for some time, a steamboat landing, both for Sidney Iowa and for Linden, Missouri.
The change in the channel of the Missouri put an end to the importance of both localities, and the laying out of the city of Hamburg by Augustus Borchers in 1857 completed their destruction as business points.
About 1872 the town of El Paso was vacated by act of the county court and the town site reverted to the farm owned by the widow of Major John Worlen, now Mrs. Pritchard. Sacramento about the same period was also vacated and all the buildings worth moving were taken to Hamburg.
According to the USGS Geographical Names Information System, El Paso Landing was located at
Latitude(DEC) Longitude(DEC) Latitude(DMS) Longitude(DMS)
39.1758333 -94.3425000 391033N 0942033W
Note that the date given in this account for the Lewis arrival in Mo does not square with the birthplaces of some of the Lewis children given in the 1860 Census, ie. Columbia Lewis could not have been both 16 years old and born in Missouri. The fact that there is no entry for William and Susan Lewis in the 1850 Mo census supports the book's assertion that the Lewises did not arrive in Atchison county until later in 1850.
Mrs Gayler also reports that William Lewis did have a will and it is archived at the Atchison county court house. She has no information about their burial places.
---From History of Atchison County, pages 1018-1020. This contains information about William Lewis' son-in-law, Captain Samuel A. Hunter.
Murder of Captain S. A. Hunter
Under head of "Another Murder,", the Atchison County Journal, of March 31, 1866, thus refers to the deed: "On Thursday last, the 22d, Captain S. A. Hunter, late of the Ninth Missouri Cavalry, was brutally murdered near the Missouri River, in Buchanan Township, by William R. Robertson. The immediate cause of this sad affair we learn from rumor, was a quarrel between the parties respecting the sale of some cord wood. Captain Hunter had purchased a lot of wood from Robertson, who afterwords sold the same to a boat passing up the river. Hunter went to see him, and an altercation was the result. Hunter started off as if going home. Robertson thereupon used some abusive language, which caused Hunter to return. He took Robertson by the collar and gave him a shake. Robertson then drew his revolver and shot him. Hunter turned round and Robertson shot him a second time. Hunter died almost immediately. Robertson at once took to flight, and has not yet been captured, though pursuit has been kept up, and the friends are offering large rewards for his capture. Captain Hunter is well and favorable known in Northwest Missouri, and his loss in the community will be deeply felt. Robertson does not enjoy a very good reputation in the neighborhood in which he lived, which fact will go hard with him if taken.
This is the third murder that has been committed in this county since the commencement of the present year, and the fact that no one of the murderers has yet suffered the penalty of their crime, goes far towards making these affrays so numerous. Let the grand jury at once find bills against these parties, and one or all suffer as the law directs, and there will be less violence and bloodshed. In the days of the rebellion, even, such outrages in our community were not so common, and this, in a measure, results from the fact that honest and upright citizens have long since ceased to carry weapons of defense, those who retain them being mostly of a class that need watching."
The same journal in its issue of April 7, 1866, says: "From Sheriff Wyatt we learn that William Robertson, who murdered Captain Hunter on the 22d of March last, was arrested in Linn County, Missouri, a few days ago and taken to Iowa, where the officer who captured him will receive the reward offered for him, and that Sheriff Wyatt will start at once for him and take him to Oregon, Holt County, for confinement until his trial. Thus must another convict render an account of his inhuman acts. We hope that law and justice will attend to his case well, and if he be found guilty to make an example of him. It is high time that a stop should be put to this nefarious work, and it only remains with our civil courts to do this thing."
The Journal of the 14th of April of the same year contains the following account of another bold murder in the county: "Roberson Hung By A Mob. As we stated in our last issue, William Robertson was captured and on Friday last brought to this place in custody of Sheriff Wyatt. Saturday morning he was taken to Buchanan Township for examination, as we learn, at his own request. 'Squire Cellers being absent from home and not returning till late in the day, the trial was not over until late in the afternoon. Robertson waived an examination and was committed. The sheriff and his posse were stopping at the house of Captain Woolsey, half a mile below the site of the old town of El Paso, and directly after dark the house was suddenly surrounded and entered by a band of armed men who took Robertson away and doubtless hung him, as he was found the next day hanging from a tree in the neighborhood.
The sheriff and his posse did all in their power to save their prisoner from his impending doom, but resistance was useless with a band of persons, perhaps one hundred armed and determined men, and it is fortunate that further bloodshed was not the result of these men taking the law into their own hands.
We regret that any portion of the people of Atchison County should so far lose confidence in the ability of the law to punish the guilty as to undertake its enforcement, in violation of law. And now that four lives have been lost and many others made unhappy for life, and society been disturbed and disorganized, we hope to see our officers renew their vigilance and show a determination that the guilty shall no go unwhipt of justice. To the bad management of the first murder (that of the murder of Johnson) may be traced the origin of this affair, or the origin of the facts which caused these men to think and act as they did."
The mob is believed to have been headed by the notorious Bill Lewis, a noted character in that day, and though endowed with some good traits of character, turbulent and overbearing in his demeanor. He was arrested, with others, on suspicion of being concerned in the murder of Robertson. He managed as did others concerned in the outrage, to have his trial moved from place to place, at great cost to himself, until finally the matter was worn out, and he escaped justice.
Bill Lewis
Many stories are told of Bill Lewis as a practical joker. Many of these jokes, it appears, savored as much of malice as of fun. On one occasion, it is related that he offered the captain of a boat on which he happened to be traveling, ten dollars for the privilege of ringing the bell. This diversion he kept up, to the annoyance of the passengers, till the captain was glad to return to him the money and pay him, besides, a bonus to induce him to forgo his contract. In another of his drunken moods, he is said to have mounted the drum of a large stove on the fore wheels of a wagon, in the semblance of a cannon. With this planted on the river bank, at the Sacramento landing, he hailed and ordered a passing boat to round to and land--a command with which the captain of the craft, apprehensive of being blown out of the water, promptly complied, when he discovered, to his infinite disgust, the nature of the formidable field piece, and recognized one of Bill Lewis' practical jokes.
Through the courtesy of Cathryn G. Lewis, Associate Circuit Deputy Clerk in the Circuit Court of Atchison county, Missouri, I obtained a copy of William's will. The text reads as follows:
I, William Lewis, of the County of Atchison in the State of Missouri, do make and publish this my last will and testament.
After the payment of my just debts, I give and bequeath to my beloved wife Susannah Lewis, the home place on which I now live for and during her natural Life besides her interest in the personal property as my widow.
It is my will and desire that my son Robert M. Lewis share said home place with his mother during her lifetime.
It is my will and I give and bequeath to my daughter Phedelia Millard one hundred and sixty acres of Land being a part of the William Movesey farm and being the place on which she together with husband Phillip Millard now lives.
I give and bequeath to my two grandsons William Hunter and Albert Hunter all of what is known as the Hunter farm and formerly owned by their Father Samuel A. Hunter.
I give and bequeath to my son Otis Lewis Twenty Two acres more or less of land lying west of Venables Mill which I own in Nemaha County in the State of Nebraska.
I give and bequeath to my son William Henry Lewis Forty acres of Land lying east of Venables Mill in Nemaha County in Nebraska.
It is my special will and desire that all of my real estate that ___ fall to my Daughter Corrilla Cowles. Shall only be a life estate for her and at her decease shall descend to the heirs of her Body if any survive her if not then it shall revert to my heirs.
After payment of my debts and the above special Bequest, the remainder of my estate both personal and Real shall be divided equally among my heirs, my two grandsons William and Albert Hunter taking a child's part and my grandson Wilson W. Williams to take a child's part.
In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand this 9th day of April, 1874. Wm Lewis
Signed Published and declared by the said William Lewis as and for his last Will and testament, in presence of us, who at his request have Signed, as witnesses to the same, in his presence and in the presence of each other.
Adam C. Mann, George Thompson
William's signature on the will appears firm but uneven, suggesting to me that the will was written by someone else and Mr Lewis only signed it. I also received from the same source, the Certificate of Admission to Probate, the Certificate of Probate and a third document which re certifies that the witnesses actually did witness William Lewis sign the will. Date on all three of these documents is 3 November 1875.
Place of birth is given as Penn in 1880 federal census, Iowa
DEATH OF WILLIAM LEWIS
Last Saturday Morning closed the earthly career of one of our most prominent men and, in many respects, the most noted character on the Missouri slope. We refer to William Lewis, who died at seven O'clock, October 31st, after an illness of several weeks; and, although in looking back over his past life and recalling the amount of labor he has performed, the dangers he has encountered, and the hardships he has born during three score years and ten, we are compelled to wonder that the end did not come more quickly, still the first brief announcement of his death cast a gloom over the entire community.
Being one of the first white men who dared to invade this almost unexplored region, he has been closely identified with its interests during a third of a century, and his name is a familiar household word in half the families on the Missouri slope. His eventful career through all the varied phases of a pioneer life would seem more like fiction than reality, were it not for the thousands of acres which his hands have transformed from a trackless prairie into beautiful farms, which are the pride and glory of our western country, and will prove a lasting monument to his memory.
Mr. Lewis was a peculiar man. Ignorant of every thing pertaining to books, his early education being confined to the rifle, axe and plow, yet, his natural good sense and sound judgment were more useful to him here, than would the diplomas from a half dozen colleges. Brave as the bravest, he was not the man to flee from any danger, and he was never known to ask a quarter from any living man. He would not allow himself to think for a moment that anyone could possibly whip him in a fight or swindle him in a bargain. But generous to a fault he never struck a fallen enemy, or rejoiced over the misfortunes which overtook any who had injured him.
At the commencement of the war, when it was dangerous for any man to walk these streets until he had taken the oath of allegiance to the Confederate Government, Uncle Bill took a bold and decided stand for the old Union, and risked, not only his property, but his life in defense of those principles which he deemed right and just. Uncle Bill was genial and sociable, in his disposition, and even the terrible energy which he carried into every conflict was toned and softened down by his love for the humorous, which no anger could suppress, and no danger could obliterate. A story which was published in Harper's Magazine in 1863, illustrates Uncle Bill as he appeared when hailing a Missouri Steamer, which bore the stars and bars. His orders to 'round to', were ignored and it was only when Old Bill's stentorian voice ordered the boys behind the masked battery to 'blow the old shell out of the water,' said order being backed by the black and frowning muzzle of a twelve pounder, which poked its nose through the branches, that the valiant Captain gave the order to round to. Imagine his surprise when he found the battery to consist of a piece of rusty stovepipe mounted on two wheels, and 'manned' by a couple of ten year old boys.
But he is now gone, and the record of his life shows that may be accomplished by a man unaided, except by his own industry, energy and manhood. Of him it may truthfully be said, that he died as he had lived, beloved by his friends and respected by his enemies.
--Hamburg Times -(Iowa)
"TALES OF PIONEER DAYS --Wm Lewis a Well-Known Character of Early Days -- Of all the pioneers of this part of the Missouri slope, no man was more noted in his time than Wm. Lewis, "Old Bill Lewis" as he was then called. He came in these parts at an early date from one of the eastern states of the south. Long before the Civil war he settled on a nice tract of land near the state line.
The land he and his brother Robert Lewis owned extended from the Missouri river bank to the state line south of where the C.B. & Q. depot is now located. It has always been considered the best laying and most productive land in this neighborhood and today could not be bought for one hundred and fifty dollars per acre. After being located Lewis built a very large two story dwelling of native lumber from foundation to the comb. A large brick chimney on each end of the house was built out side from the ground to a few feet above the top of the house.
His farm and all the improvements made a typical southern plantation in all respects except the slaves. The house yet stands with the wood work in a good state of preservation, a monument to the owners broad ideas nearly three quarters of a century ago. Both he and his wife being industrious and economical in their ways of living became possessed of a good deal of property and were well to do before the war.
During the war he was an ardent sympathizer of the Union. Though never enlisting in the regular service he was recognized as a defender of the government and was much feared by those who entertained opposite views. He was the leader of a gang of men who cared more about acquiring to themselves property that belonged to others than they did about putting down the rebellion; although they posed and were recognized in the community as defenders of the Union and against golden circles, copper heads and out and out rebels against the government.
He and his followers were accused of exceeding their jurisdiction whenever there was a good opportunity to get to themselves property by plunder. At that time when the border slave state of Missouri was infested by enemies of the government many depredations were charged against Mr. Lewis of which he was not guilty. When reports would come to the effect that rebels were expected to make a raid in this neighbor neighborhood which was of frequent occurrence, Mr. Lewis and his men were sought by Union men for protection. The fact that at the outset of the war, squads of rebel sympathizers paraded in drill up and down one street while squads of union men did the same on another street in Hamburg showed that such leaders as Lewis had enemies close at home.
After many union men had enlisted and gone to the field, the others became more bold and outspoken against the government and union men. These came to the knowledge of Mr. Lewis who threatened to raid the town. Reports came to the town that Bill Lewis and his m en were on their way for that purpose. Excitement ran hight and means were taken with haste and energy to resist and give him such a reception that would last he and his gang a lifetime. The spies, pickets and guards were sent out while others took up the bridge that spanned the slough on Main street and used the planks and sills in making a breast work on the north bank of the creek. Behind this breast work they looked and waited for Bill Lewis and his gang but Bill Lewis and his gang did not come. Whether he intended to raid Hamburg or whether he was afraid to do so was never made known. Some claimed that when he heard that the bridge had been taken down and breast works made to resist him, he was afraid, while others claimed he never intended any such raid.
Townsend Fugitt, a quiet, peaceable and good citizen who had considerable property, lived on his farm four miles east of Hamburg was raided, robbed and left for dead by a gang of men that went to his home after night.
The history of Fremont county says the persons who raided Mr. Fugitt were a gang of jay hawkers composed of deserters from the army of the confederate General, Price, and professed union men, under the lead of one Warren Price and the gang came over the river from Peru, Nebraska. It also states that Bill Lewis piloted the gang to Mr. Fugitts. Good citizens who claimed to know as much as any except members of the gang deny that there was any certainty of Mr. Lewis' connection with that raid.
The best union citizens on both sides of the state line were warm friends of Mr. Lewis. When he was captured and accused of aiding in the raid on Mr. Fugitt they rallied to his rescue. When his accusers whom tradition says were not union men, took him to McKissick's grove a short distance north and east of the C.W. McKissick homestead with the view of going through a mock trial and putting him to death, the union men in the community rallied to his support and saved his life. The mock trial revealed in the minds of his friends that there was a doubt as to his guilt. The number that were present on that occasion were nearly equally divided politically. The union men were Lewis' friends and the other his enemies who were bent on avenging the raid on Mr. Fugitt with Lewis' death. Lewis' daughter, an unusually strong minded and intelligent lady and her husband, a captain in the union service, were there. Every person present on both sides were armed with deadly weapons. A spokesman of the union men stood upon a log and gave their reasons why Mr. Lewis should not be put to death. With courage and eloquence and meaning in his speech, said he, "if Bill Lewis is shot, on this occasion not a man will leave this grove alive." The speech had its desired effect and calmer reason and better judgment prevailed and Lewis was turned over to the care of his friends, as it were, a brand snatched from the burning. Mr. Lewis' actions were known by the officers of the union soldiers stationed at points in north west Missouri but none thought he did the union cause sufficient harm to interfere with him. To be continued next week."
"TALES OF PIONEER DAYS -- More Incidents In The Life Of Bill Lewis And His Gang During pioneer days many boats navigated the Missouri river, and at the beginning of the Civil war when Clair Jackson was governor and few Union soldiers had been brought into the state, Union men dared not make their sentiments known while the opposite sentiment was strong and bold.
Tradition states it as a truth that a steamboat that plied between St. Joseph and the upper towns gave the impression that the officers were rebel sympathizers and were giving aid and comfort to the enemies of the government, and that it displayed a different flag than that of the Start and Stripes. This fact was made known to Mr. Lewis who determined that such should not go unrebuked by a little fun, at least. To do that he made a breast work of logs and earth on the river bank near the boat landing, which was then called Sidney Landing, about three miles from Hamburg. On these breast works he placed a six inch stove pipe pointing to the river, which much resembled a cannon. The officers of the boat saw it and the men at the breast works, steamed on intending to pass without landing. Lewis seeing this, mounted the breast works and halted the boat with the threat if they did not land he would blow the boat and all on board to h__l. The boat landed and when saw it was a coarse joke and instead of having a battle or the boat being plundered they commented on Lewis' ingenuity and grit, and after all joined in a hearty laugh the boat proceeded on its way and Lewis and his men took down the evidences of his belligerent intentions.
Very soon after the war a circumstance occurred which showed the evil tendencies of man and the length of wrong doing men will go to when not restrained by conscious, strong correct public sentiment or fear of the law.
At that time, most men in the community carried a deadly weapon and it was used on very slight provocation too frequently. Mr. Lewis' son-in-law and another gentleman kept a wood yard on the bank of the Missouri river southwest of Hamburg where steam boats landed and took the wood for steam purposes. During the month of March 1866 a boat took several cords of wood when both proprietors were present. When the wood was being paid for, a dispute arose between the gentlemen regarding the division of the money, when Mr. Lewis' son-in-law was shot and instantly killed. This enraged Mr. Lewis and all his relatives and friends. A mob was raised supposed to be under the leadership of Mr. Lewis. The man was seized and kept until night. Whether there was any mock trial to prove the man's guilt is not known. He was condemned, trial or no trial. In the night, the mob took him to an isolated spot in a ravine in the bluffs, about a mile south of what is called Pritchard Lake. Those who heard the pleadings and cries of the man when they were taking him to his death described it as heart rending in the extreme, but they had no more effect on the mob than the cries of a mouse in the claws of a cat. On a box elder tree a few hundred yards from the main road, his lifeless body was taken down the next day and buried by his friends.
During those times, grand juries and courts were both indifferent and afraid to undertake to apprehend and punish men guilty of mob violence and no effort was made to punish any of that mob.
Mr. Lewis in his calm and sober moments was recognized as good hearted, well meaning, generous and liberal in his views. If his early training had been of a better nature, he evidently would have been a man capable of doing great good. Being addicted to the excessive use of strong drink, his good qualities were buried beneath, while the evil passions were excited and inflamed by the intoxicating cup. Nothing of an elevating or ennobling character that tends to make good citizenship was promoted or encouraged by Lewis or any of his immediate followers.
For years it was his delight and the delight of his gang as they were called to go in a body on horse back every Saturday, all get drunk and show the officials and people of Hamburg how the town ought to be run. Occasionally, some member of the gang who was too drunk or weak to make much resistance would be arrested, then the gang would rally to his support and Hamburg's streets would be crowded in no time with a surging mob all anxious to see the "fun".
On one occasion which the writer vividly calls to mind, Phil Willard, one of the gang, was arrested by city Marshal Cowles and his assistants, and taken before the mayor. The mayor's little office was crowded by the gang and others until scarcely another could get in; and the crowd filled the door and windows and blocked the side walk for many feet around, all nervously awaiting for the show to begin. The mayor trembling from the crown of his head to the soles of boots says: "Phil, have you an attorney?" Before the prisoner could reply old Bill stood up as straight and dignified as a pint of rot gut whiskey would let him and stammered out, "Say mayor, I'm his lawyer. I'll plead his case. We ain't going to pay any lawyer fee." "Are you ready for trial," tremblingly asked the mayor, "You bet," says Lewis. At that instant the marshal who was standing by the prisoner cried out at the top of his voice, "Phil's got a pistol. Phil's got a pistol." Pandemonium in that office in an instant prevailed, with pistols above the heads of the crowd pointing to the ceiling in all parts of the room, and the voices of the marshal and is assistants with oaths crying at the top of their voices get out of here Bill Lewis, get out of here naming the rest of the gang. The crowd in the door and windows and the crowd on the side walk made clear sailing for Bill and his gang who came tumbling and rushing over the mayor and all in their way, without the least disposition to discuss the right or wrong of such proceedings. In a moment, the marshal, his assistants and the mayor had undisputed possession of that office while Bill and his gang, the prisoner included, made a bee line for their horses then hitched in the alley west of where the Cut Rate grocery store now is. Down Argyle street and D street and over the bridge they all went as fast as their horses could carry them with Bill in the lead whooping and bellowing like a lot of Indians on the war path. When the mayor and marshals got themselves righted and the dust and wool out of their eyes, they consoled one another that's a bad job ended no worse.
Many escapades very much like the above occurred during the ten to fifteen years of Hamburg's boom as it was called when the thirteen open saloons did more business than all the other branches in town.
A career like Bill's cannot last always. His drink and neglect of business and his generosity in going other peoples security which he had to pay so involved him in debt that he was compelled to mortgage his farm at a very high rate of interest. His children were a great expense to him, all of which caused his fine farm to be sold and he left with very little to support him and his industrious wife in their old age. Almost broken hearted, the wife and mother died a few years before he. After that Mr. Lewis being without if no almost ignorant of the sustaining grace that is able to sustain men and women in all trials and under all circumstances, was carried to his last resting place with little good to show in his life and with few sympathizers to mourn at the grave." --Hamburg (IA) Reporter 7 Jan 1910.
.;:OLD. BILL LEWIS.-0-
Northwest Missouri was a new country forty years ago. In the northwest county, Atchison county, lies a tract of broad, level valley, part of the great bottoms that stretch up and down the bank of the Missouri river from St. Joe to Sioux City, Ia. This vast tract is a series of fertile "gumbo" prairies, sandy hummocks, sloughs, cottonwood forest and willow thicket. In high water it all overflows. It is a formation of sand, soil and decayed vegetation that breeds bad water, big mosquitoes and malaria, raises great corn, but not the best citizens that the great state of Missouri could boast of. The native grass on these bottom lands grows to immense height--four to ten feet.
Old Bill Lewis, was a pioneer on the bottom, gigantic in stature, raw-boned, six feet in height, his smooth-shaven face was as angular and as devoid of beauty as a stump fence. Forty years ago Old Bill was the king of the bottoms. He lived in the north west corner of the Atchison county. His domain reached from the river to the bluffs, a good twelve miles, and Bill's land lay on either side of the Nishnabotana River, which here runs its sluggish course westward across the big bottom to join the muddy flow of the Missouri. Here, in sight of Nebraska and Iowa, Bill raised corn, cattle and hogs at considerable trouble, as anyone would find out who tried to stay on the bottom, and failed to follow Bill's ideas of what were the duties of a good citizen. Bill first attracted attention beyond the confines of his own neighborhood about 1850, when he boarded a down-river steamboat, and after inspecting her from boiler deck to the pilot house, he approached her commander, Capt. LaBarge, who stood on the hurricane deck, near where the big bell western steam boats carry on their upper decks. As he slouched up to the captain and peered at him with his foxy little eyes, he said : ' Say, Cap, what will you tax me to ring that bell from here to St. Louis?'
' Oh, I guess I could lot you do it for about $25 Bill and I'd board you into the bargain.' replied the captain, who supposed it was Bill's way of asking the fare to St. Louis.
'All right,' replied Bill It's pretty high, but guess I will trade with you.'
'You just go down to the office,' said the captain, ' and settle with the clerk.'
By the time the boat backed off, and had turned her wide bow pointing down the river towards St. Louis, Bill's tall form loomed up in front of the pilot house, he grabbing the rope that runs from the pilot house and is attached to the heavy iron tongue or clapper of the big bell. Bill began to ring out a strain that floated over the sand bars and willow thickets, and must have been startling to the frogs, catfish and mosquitoes.
'Here, what are you doing there?' shouted Capt. La Barge from the pilot house where he was swinging the wheel first one way and then the other, in his efforts to keep his boat off the sand bars and snags.
' Ringing this danged old bell,' shouted Bill. ' Didn't I pay that galoot down in the office $25, and didn't you say yourself that was the price for ringing this bell to St. Louis?' And the bell rang out louder and faster, such waves of sound that the captain was unable to hear what the engineer was saying up through the speaking tube connecting with the engine room below.
' But,' said the captain, 'you didn't mean that, did you?'
' Well, do I look like a man that's joking ? Nary a joke. I meant just what I said,' and all the time he was ringing the bell. The passengers had gathered around Bill, and they seemed to relish the joke, and were of the opinion that lie had the best of the captain.
' Just let him alone,' said the captain; he'll soon get tired of the fun.' But old Bill hung right on to the bell rope, and kept the bell going' When he got tired sat down, and when weary of that he laid flat down on the deck and kept on ringing. Night came on ; the boat tied up to the bank on the Nebraska side, and while the wind rustled the restless leaves of the cottonwood, and sighed a mourning dirge among the willows, ding-dong, ding-dong. rang that bell, and ding-dong was echoed back from the prairie bluffs that rose from the west. Never was the sound of a ' bell buoy ' at. sea more mournful and sleep-dispelling. The passengers began to lose interest in the fun, and threw out sundry hints to the captain, who also in the meantime had grown stubborn an sullen that they thought he owed it to them to do something to stop that infernal bell. He tried to bluff old Bill, threatened to put him ashore, but he soon found that he got no encouragement from the old frontiersman in doing that. The captain. knew something of Bill's power on the bottom and as his boat must invade Bill's domains again, he tried coaxing, and then as a last resort, compromised. This was the fight for the captain. Bill's colors went down, and the bell was silent, but tile old man had his $25 back in his pocket, and $25 more of the captain's money had come with it to keep it company, and as a further inducement he held the right to passage, meals and state room to St. Louis, seven hundred miles away, and back again to his home. -- The Burlington (IA) Gazette 29 August 1896
THE FREMONT COUNTY HERALD. March 26, l903. "SOME FACTS OF EARLY FREMONT COUNTY HISTORY. Jayhawkers' Raid on Townson F. Fugitt and Incidents Connected Thereto."--"Warren Price was at the head of a notorious and unscrupulous band of jayhawkers who had been terrorizing the citizens of southwestern Iowa, northwestern Missouri, southeastern Nebraska and northeastern Kansas for some time during the early part of the war of the rebellion. They would plunder houses, steal horses, and it is said, would commit murder in order to accomplish their purpose if necessary. They were quite generally known as "Price's band," but styled themselves as "Price's Army."
On Sunday night, December 29th, 1861, this notorious band made a raid on Fremont county. They crossed the Missouri river and stopped at one of their favorite rendezvous a short distance south of the state line--the home of Wm. Lewis, commonly called "Old Bill Lewis." At this place they always stopped when they chose to "operate" in this section of the country. Lewis was a man of their liking, and being well acquainted with the people and country, he acted as pilot on this occasion.
Their first point of attack was about four miles east of Hamburg in Madison township, at the home of Townson F. Fugitt. Mr. Fugitt was the only adult male on the premises, the remainder of his household consisting of his wife and children. They had no warning of the raid and the entire family were sound asleep at the time of the attack--the first intimation that raiders were there to plunder him came to Mr. Fugitt by being awakened at the bursting in of his door. He sprang from his bed only to be confronted by a room full of desperate looking villains whom he could see by the light which shone forth from the hearth. In no ungentle tones they informed Mr. Fugitt that they were from "Price's Army" and having learned that he was a "d--d abolitionist," came for the purpose of raiding him, and already some of the band were helping themselves to the contents of the family wardrobe. Mr. Fugitt was not a man who would quietly submit to such outrages and though there were a goodly n
umber of them, he prepared to defend himself and family by seizing from its hook a heavy double-barrel shotgun and fired at the intruders, whereupon most of them fled from the room. A couple remained, however, and Mr. Fugitt clubbing his gun attacked them. Their comrades returned to their assistance and in the skirmish which followed Mr. Fugitt was shot four times-in the head, neck, shoulder and hand. The wound in his neck brought him down, falling insensible. Undoubtedly they thought they had killed him, after which they abused Mrs. Fugitt in an inhuman manner, took Mr. Fugitt's horse and road away. It scarcely needs to said that they met a warmer reception than they anticipated at the hands of a brave and fearless man. In fact, it was the belief of Mr. Fugitt that one of the band was killed by his shot--at least indications around the Fugitt home the next morning gave rise to such belief. Nothing definite was ever learned about it, however, but if such was the case the bo
dy was carried away to avoid a clue as to who the raiders were.
The first alarm of the deed was given to the neighbors that night by Clay and Nancy Fugitt (Nancy afterwards became Mrs. W.A. Nelson,) son and daughter of the wounded man, and also a son of C.W. mcKissick--young McKissick carrying the news to Giles Cowles.
It might be said also that there is a strong belief on the part of some who were well acquainted with the circumstances that some of this unscrupulous band were residents of the vicinity, and whose reputation would not disclose anything very good on their part.
When Giles Cowles learned of what had happened he immediately prepared to capture the band if possible. He borrowed a gun from John Griswold (afterward county auditor) and in company with C.W. McKissick rode to Hamburg and gave the alarm. While in Hamburg, on the morning of December 30th, he killed one of the band by the name of "Chuffy McCabe" and captured another by the name of Samuel Lowery, after severely wounding him in the leg.
After leaving the Fugitt home, it seems that the jayhawkers divided and went different ways, still intent on raiding the whole community. The two who were captured by Cowles and McKissick the next morning, went to the home of Rev. Elias Findley, (afterwards county clerk,) a Baptist minister who lived not far from Fugitt's. After learning that he was a minister (if, indeed, they did not know beforehand) they compelled him under cover of revolvers to perform various fantastic dances and other freaks for their amusements. After enjoying their evening's entertainment, they took the reverend gentleman's ministerial broadcloth coat and rode away. McCabe was wearing this coat when killed the next morning. He paid dearly for his plunder. His things were sold at public auction, T. L. Buckham, Fremont county's first treasurer, purchased a gold watch chain which McCabe wore. His grandson, F. L. Harris, at present a resident of Arizona, now possesses the chain.
It was necessary that Mr. Fugitt have medical assistance as soon as it were possible to secure it, but no physician was nearer than Sidney, a distance of fifteen miles. To go that night for a physician through a sparsely settled community with no regularly laid out roads and only winding pathways through timbered region, with that desperate band scouring the country around was a hazardous and daring undertaking. However, Samuel T. Rossean, then a young man, and at present a resident of Madison township, volunteered to make the trip, which he did alone on horseback. The trip proved to be one which was not altogether a "pleasure trip." The route was by way of the "Belcher Ferry." While on the road he met part of the band. He could hear them approaching as the ground was frozen and the night was still. He quickly decided it would be better to face them rather than attempt to seclude himself in the thickets until they passed. Accordingly he rode on until they halted him. They qu
estioned him closely with regard to who he was and what was his mission. He gave his name and stated that he was on his way to Sidney to procure a physician for a woman who was very sick. They let him pass on. When he passed Mr. Belcher's this gentleman was on the alert, he having heard the jayhawkers passing before. In those days such movements were regarded with "well founded suspicion," and men did not hesitate to ascertain the "why and wherefore" if possible. Mr. Rossean reached Sidney sometime before daylight, but the physician refused to go until day came, when he accompanied Mr. Rossean to the Fugitt home.
Part of these jayhawkers passed through the country lying between Sidney and Hamburg and very early in the morning reached the Missouri bottom by going down through what is now known as the Neeley Hollow, at the mouth of which a Mr. Copeland lived of whom they inquired the route to Nebraska City. It is probable that these were the same men who stopped Mr. Rossean and who had awakened Mr. Belcher.
The whole community in which Mr. Fugitt lived was aroused and furious over the events of the night before, and having concluded that the raid was made by the band who had been connected with "Old Bill Lewis," they proceeded without any legal authority to go into Missouri to get Lewis and his associates if they were at his place. When they went they found Lewis, and also men by the name of Scott, Green and Hunter. They brought these men to Mr. Fugitt's home and as neither Mr. nor Mrs. Fugitt recognized them as the raiders, they finally consented to turn them over to the civil authorities. They all stoutly maintained their innocence, yet many of their captors were unwilling to do other than hang them.
Henry Bowen was sheriff-elect of Fremont county and was to assume his office the next Monday. He in company with several other men from Sidney went down to where these men were held as prisoners and counseled with their captors, asking that the men be turned over to the civil authorities. After deciding that would be the proper course to follow, the prisoners were brought to Sidney and turned over to Sheriff Barnard. They remained in jail over night and then gave bond for appearance. Then they proceeded to retaliate by swearing out warrants for several of the leading men who had gone into Missouri without authority and brought them into Iowa, charging these men with "kidnapping." So far as we are able to learn the affair stopped here, whether a compromise was effected or not the writer has been unable to learn.
Mr. Fugitt recovered but always carried the bullet he received in his neck. He lived at the house where the foregoing scene took place until his death. He died in the spring of 1888 a much beloved and highly esteemed citizen.
The jayhawker--Samuel Lowery--whom Mr. Cowles wounded in Hamburg would have been mobbed by the citizens had not his captor refused to permit it. He placed Lowery in the hands of the civil authorities who committed him to the Sidney jail. Mr. Bowen assumed the sheriffs office and had charge of the prisoner until he escaped on the night of April 23, l862. The account of the escape may be of interest to the readers of this narrative. The deputy sheriff--Mr. Gill-- and family lived in the sheriff's residence to which was attached the jail. The jail was made of logs and was sealed with heavy sheet iron. There were no cells in it. There had been an opening in the floor over which a large piece of sheet-iron had been securely spiked, i.e., secure as far as one without tools was concerned. The door leading into the jail hall opened from the outside. Sometime after Lowery was placed in jail, his sister, Betty came to Sidney. She seemed to make friends among a certain class of people
. She visited the jail occasionally and the sheriff gave her this privilege so that the jail life of her brother would not become so monotonous. But with all reasonable precaution, some tools were given to Sam. He was furnished with spike heads and after drawing the spikes from the plate that covered the opening mentioned above, he would drop into the place these spike heads and thus conceal his work while he was preparing the way for escape. Having the plate once loosened he had to bore out an opening from the log beneath the floor large enough to let him pass out. This he did at night and it took him several nights to do the work. He could have escaped two weeks before he did not his wounded leg hurt him so much he decided to wait a little longer. Sheriff Bowen had been away the day before the escape, returning late in the evening, after Deputy Sheriff Gill and family had retired. Mr. Gill reported Sam as being alright, but Bowen went in the jail to examine for himself, as was his custom. He found Sam lying on the bed apparently unconcerned, no doubt only waiting for the sheriff to return home and retire so he could work his way to liberty. A horse had been tied near by, by some "friend" of his sister, Betty.
Early next morning, Sheriff Bowen discovered something wrong and went to the jail immediately, only to find that his bird had flown. Taking a lunch in his hand for his breakfast he mounted and was soon in hot pursuit. Mr. Gill heard some one ride past the jail about four o'clock and not very long before they were up. Presuming that he would go to Missouri, the sheriff started in that direction. He arrived in sight of the state line in time to see Lowery turn the horse loose on this side of the state line and was received by a "committee" from Lewis as he crossed into Missouri. The tools bearing the name of the owner were found near the opening. Lowery was never re-captured. However, eight years afterwards, a finely dressed man came to Hamburg. Here he happened to meet gentleman whom he had met before, but under more pleasant and favorable circumstances and they chatted very friendly. It was Samuel Lowery and his former captor, Giles Cowles. Samuel did not harbor any malice
toward Mr. Cowle because he well knew that Mr. Cowles was doing what was right and he was doing what was wrong when the unfortunate event of eight years previous had taken place; also, no doubt, he felt that he owed his life to Mr. Cowles who had forbidden the citizens mobbing him, as mentioned above. It so happened that ex-sheriff Bowen was in Hamburg, that day and Mr. cowles called him to the place where he and Lowery were conversing. Lowerys altered appearance, his friendly conversation with Cowles and his being an escaped prisoner all caused Mr. Bowen to fail in his recognition. Mr. Cowles then introduced him to Mr. Bowen and here he disclosed to his former custodian the details of his escape." --THE FREMONT COUNTY HERALD. March 26, l903
OLD BILL LEWIS' STORIES The first time I met old Bill Lewis was in the fall of 1855. The impression this giant man made upon me, I being a boy then only 10 years old, was a vivid one. Traveling in a two-horse wagon with my grandfather we were belated upon the almost roadless and peopleless Missouri bottoms. Late in the night the tired team halted before a worm fence-enclosed cabin. My grandfather's lusty "Hello" was answered by what seemed to me an endless pack of curs and hound dogs of all sorts and sizes. Soon a gruff voice was shouting, "Come here, Tige," "Down there, Towser." "Come back, Lion." etc. Then gradually the dogs ceased to bay and, "Well whose thar? What's wanted?" cam in tremendous tones through the darkness. This immediately aroused my youthful fears, for already I had heard of the bad men of the bottoms.
"Belated travelers, who would like shelter for the night." my grandfather answered.
"Well, if you can eat cottonwood poles and hang up on a nail, light and come in." came in gruff tones to my startled ears, and visions of luncheons consisting of the bark of cottonwood poles, such as I had noted in the bottoms where hungry horses had been gnawing upon them, arose before me. In whispers I implored my grandfather to drive on, preferring the night on the trackless bottom to the visions my fancy concocted of a night in that cabin. My grandfather set at naught my suggestions. I was soon thawing the effects of my ride on a chill November night before a roaring fire of logs piled high in a fireplace that was big enough to have been divided into a resent day five room flat with a bath. The fire was flickering shafts of light into the dark recesses of the roomy cabin.
While my grandfather, assisted by a man of appearance almost as forbidding to me as that of our hose, was caring for our team, our giant host, dressed in butternut jeans that hung loosely on his big, bony form, stalked ponderously about the cabin, his cowhide boots smiting the "puncheon" flour like a pair of pile drivers at work. I quaked with fear, for I fully believed he would kill us before morning. When and how, were the only questions in my mind.
"Them cottonwood poles is ready for yer, if you want to eat." said our host, as my grandfather came in after caring for the team. Then we followed the big man into another room where we found a mild mannered little woman busily bustling around another big fireplace. Around the hearth were skillets, pots and pans; on a crane hanging over the fire a covered iron kettle sang merrily. Sitting up to the rough board table, we were soon stowing away luscious cuts of fried venison, hot biscuits, golden butter and honey, washed down with creamy coffee that we sweetened with honey, all the while the kindly little old lady was protesting that she was ashamed that she could not give us something fit to eat.
"Well," I thought, "if this is eating cottonwood poles, I wonder what hanging on a nail will be like?" Then we sat around the fire and listened to the gruff, good-natured talk of old Bill Lewis, for it was he who was our host. He told stories that were so ornamental and Ananias-like in their embellishment that they were beautiful to me, and they sank so deeply into my mind that, though it's 40 years ago and more since the night I sat in the flickering light of that big wood fire and listened to them, they are as fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday.
"I come onto the bottom in '47," said old Bill. "Come up on a steamboat from St. Louis, and the river was so high that when the boat landed she tied up to an oak tree back yonder on the bluff, and that tree is now standing thar, and it's 70 feet above the bottom if it is an inch, and it's 12 miles from the river. In '51 we had a drought. Every green thing was as dead as a door nail 'n as dry as powder in the middle of August. I had a nice bunch of cattle and not a thing for 'em to eat, but I saved 'em."
"How did you do it?" said my grandfather.
"Why, I went down to St. Joe and I bought a pair of green goggles for each one of them critterss, put the goggles on 'em in October, and they just et everything before them and come out hog fat in April. You see, with the goggles on, everything looked green to them, and they just et it."
"In '48, when the Mormons were up to Kanesville, 60 miles above here, I thought I'd make some money off them, so I went down the river and bought a thousand bushel of beans. Shipped them on a steamboat. Boat got aground and had to wait for the river to rise to get her off. Waited so long that when I got to Kanesville with my beans the Mormons had gone on west. There I was with that thousand bushels of beans and nobody to sell 'em to. There was lots of Injuns across the river, but they didn't want to buy beans. But I got my money back and made a big profit. I just took and dyed them beans a lead color, then I took them across the river to old Fort Kearney, where Nebraska City is now, and the Otoes and Pottawatomies and Pawnees come in there in October to get their annuities, and they had money. I just called them beans buckshot and sold them by the quart fast as I could measure 'em out. Oh, you will find old Bill right there every time when it comes to business."
Then sleep overtook me and I was snuggled into a feather bed in which I was fairly smothered in downy softness. "Hanging on a nail "--sweet memory.
Old Bill Lewis died 20 years ago, and, contrary to the predictions of his neighbors, he did not die with his boots on, but died in bed, like any other exemplary citizen. -- Indianapolis (IN) Sun 24 September 1896