Introductory Sketch – No. I

The history of the early settlers of Crawford County and the bordering counties is full of interest and adventure. There is no need to buy books of fiction for our children to read, when we have facts more strange and thrilling which have transpired in our own county and the heroes of which are living in our midst. There is but a small number of our population who know of the sufferings, deprivations and hardships of the early pioneers of the Boyer Valley. New settlers keep making their homes among us and all think that they are martyrs, or heroes, in venturing so far west. But how different is their advent here to the advent of our old settlers. Now, the new settlers can find a market for any commodity and can buy at a neighboring store any necessary he needs. It was not so a few years ago; then the nearest market was Council Bluffs, and the means of transportation were ox-teams, in which would be the productions of the settlers such as furs of different kinds and corn.

It would then take a week to go to mill, and we now find fault if it takes half a day. The wives and daughters then used to pay upon the loom and spinning wheel instead of the organ and piano. The science of physiology was unknown to our early settlers and the consequence was that each house was represented by a numerous family. And although they had hardships to encounter, which would make many of us give up the contest, yet to-day we find those early settlers having stronger constitutions than those who have had no deprivations.

The first house built in this section of the country was built by Able Galland in 1847, at Galland's Grove. This house which was built of logs was the only house at that time this side of Council Bluffs. The next house was built by Jesse Mason at Mason's Grove. The first mill was built by Mr. Chatburn on the Boyer river near Woodbine, and the first saw mill was built by the same gentleman. Mr. Chaburn manufactured his mill-stones from large boulders such as we find scattered upon our prairies. The first domestic geese this side of Council Bluffs were owned by Mrs. Chatburn; she brought them from Council Bluffs, and geese being a very scarce article, she prized them highly – in short, Mrs. Chatburn had a corner on geese. Wolves at this time were more plentiful than geese, consequently Mrs. Chatburn was compelled to house her geese every night. One cold winter's night the wolves were making the welkin ring with their dismal howls. Chatburn was snoring in blissful ignorance of any danger, but his dutiful spouse was thinking of her favorite geese. The wolves came nearer and nearer, Chatburn snored louder and louder, while Mrs. Chatburn's heart beat quicker and quicker. All at once she heard a sudden quack, quack, quack, and in a moment she was out of bed, and dashed for the door, when she perceived a huge wolf making off with her noble gander. The snow was deep, her feet were bare, she had no cover on but her night dress, but nothing daunted, she grabbed the axe and started after the wolf, which was compelled to drop his prey. She then gathered up her frightened gander and started back to the house. After putting him in a place of safety, she went to her lord, who, by this time, had found her wanting, and told him “that he would lay in bed and let the wolves eat him up if she was not there to watch.” Mr. Chatburn remarked that he guessed he would and then continued snoring. Mrs. Chatburn was an heroine and deserves a monument.

The first white inhabitant born in what is now Crawford County, deserves honorable mention. His name is Don Butler. He was born in a log cabin in Long Grove, Union township, 23 years ago. He was named after Don Juan, of historic fame. Don is still living in Union township, and we presume to say that there is not a man in the county who knows every hill, valley, creek, grove, or coon track better than Don. He is now a man with a family and he makes a specialty of horse trading, in which profession he excels. If any of the readers of the “Review” ever meet Don and he does not want to trade horses the reason will be that he is sick.

February 25, 1874

Chapter II.

In the year 1846 Council Bluffs was known by the name of Kaneville, named after Colonel Kane, who commanded a battalion of Mormons during the Mexican war. An Indian trader named Wicks informed the few natives of Kaneville, that about fifty miles distant, in a northerly direction, was a heavy belt of timber, and in this timber was honey in abundance. Able Galland and his sons Benjamin and William, elated by the reports of all this sweetness, started with an ox team for this eldorado of honey. Wicks started them on an old Indian trail and then left them to their fate. Nothing daunted by the return of their guide, they persevered in their mission. Ofttimes they would meet the red man, who would beg tobacco, etc., and go on his way rejoicing. Able and his sons did not then know the treachery of the sons of the forest, but only a little way in the future and every settler had to shoulder his gun and protect his home from the depredations of the savages. Future sketches will show the many exploits the settlers had with the Indians. Able and his sons found the belt of timber spoken of by the Indian trader, and named it “Big Grove”. They also found that the “honey crop” exceeded the account given them by Wicks. Deer, wild cat, coon, and other game were in abundance. They stayed in the woods three weeks and then started back to their friends at Kaneville, with their team loaded with honey and venison. Their return caused great excitement in the Mormon settlement, and after indulging in honey and venison for two weeks, several teams started back to Big Grove to get honey and venison sufficient to last them through the winter. They were very successful, and just as the first posts were commencing they returned to Council Bluffs with their rich booty.

In the summer of 1847 five of the Rudd brothers, also Benjamin Galland and sons, started to explore the country. Arriving at Big Grove, Able Galland built a log house, which is now known as Luke Hankins' place. Those pioneers located themselves claims and spent several months in exploring the country. About this time came Jesse Mason, the first white man known to make a track in Mason's Grove. This beautiful grove was named after Mr. Mason, and is known by that name to this day. The youngest of the Rudd family was but six years of age, but nothing delighted him more than to chase the deer, and it was this early education which has made Sidney so thoroughly acquainted with the habits of the deer, beaver, otter, mink, etc. When Sidney was a year or two older he would bring down his deer with his little rifle as well as the older men. It is something singular that all those early settlers located their lands in the timbered districts. It was rare for any to locate in the valleys or on the prairies. They seemed to think that the bracing winds of Iowa would take away a building which was not sheltered by the timber. At this time this country was not surveyed, and as our sketches progress we will take the incidents as they occurred up to the time of the surveying of Crawford county.

March 11, 1874

Chapter III.

In the spring of 1848 six families had located in Big Grove. The heads of these families were Able Galland, Joseph Hancock, Wm. Jordan, A. F. Rudd, and G. Roberts. All these had taken up claims in the timber land, and although the vast and rich prairies surrounded those tracts of timber, yet it seemed that those those early settlers preferred the enormous labor of clearing the timber land in preference to the simple breaking of the prairie sod – without any consideration for future generations those early settlers would cut down the valuable oaks and walnuts, and invite their neighbors to assist them in log-rolling, after which they would apply the match, and burn, by wholesale, the most valuable timber in our groves. Sufficient timber has been destroyed at one time to fence a section or more of land. The query arises: were those early settlers of any benefit to the county? Did not their destructive propensities more than overbalance their beneficial properties? Probably they could not do otherwise, having no breaking plows, and but few oxen or horses and the timber land having little or any sod it was easily cultivated. Each settler would have a garden patch, and sufficient ground under cultivation to raise what corn they would consume, which was manufactured into hominy and corn meal as their necessities called for.

Those settlers fared sumptuously! Their “bill of fare” was susceptible of changes as follows: for breakfast, hog, hominy, corn bread and honey; for dinner, honey, hominy, corn bread and hog; for supper, hominy, hog, honey and corn bread. As yet there was no mill nearer than Council Bluffs, and there the settlers would have to go to have their “corn cracked,” as they termed it.

On the first of January, 1849, Wm. Jordan started for Council Bluffs with a load of corn and pork. He had been gone about half a day when one of the most violent snow storms commenced. Four to six days was the usual time to make this trip, but a week passed and he did not return. The log cabins of the settlers were but poorly constructed, and the snow would find its way through a hundred crevices. Soon the wood and hominy of the Jordan family was gone – they had nothing left but “hog.” The storm continued with no abatement, and the cold was intense. The anxiety concerning her husband prostrated Mrs. Jordan, which seemed to give her oldest daughter more energy, and like a true “heroine,” she shouldered the ax and taking along a hand sled, started to the timber, where she felled a few dry, dead oaks, loaded her sled and dragged it to the cabin. She then went into the corn patch and husked a sled load of corn, which was converted into hominy. The storm still raged, but our heroine kept above it all and provided for her sick mother and brothers and sisters. Mrs. Jordan gave up her husband as lost, but her daughter tried to cheer her by telling her that “father knew too much to be froze to death.” The last day of January came, but Mr. Jordan had not yet arrived. The long, terrible storm had abated, and the 31st of January dawned upon those settlers with a clear sky. The family were sitting down to dinner, and the faith of even our heroine in regard to her father's safety was getting weak, and as they ate their frugal fare tears coursed down the cheeks of the children, when suddenly the door opened and into the cabin came the lost one. The joy in this cabin cannot be described, and when our heroine showed her father her blistered hands and frozen feet, he was overpowered with emotion. Mr. Jordan's sufferings had been intense, and he was compelled to leave his wagon behind. Although considerably frozen he forgot all in the happiness of enjoying his family again. Our heroine is still living in Crawford county, and has a numerous family of children; she is now known by the name of Mrs. John Rudd.

Up to this time the Indians had not been very troublesome, but a few years later the red men began to show their nature, and they would make raids on the settlers and steal everything they could lay their hand on. The settlers began to retaliate; they had tried the “Quaker policy,” but it had failed. The Indians began to see that the settlers meant business and they would make the woods echo with their terrible yells. Mothers would snatch up their children and rush to their cabins for safety, while the men and larger boys would be ready with their rifles to defend their homes. But we will reserve the Indian adventures for our next sketch.

March 18, 1874

Chapter IV.

In the summer of 1854, Judge Chatburn, seeing the necessity of a mill to crack corn, hauled boulders and manufactured millstones from those rough specimens. The Judge was a wonderful inventive genius, and soon had a mill in working order. The greatest difficulty was the want of belts, and Mr. Chatburn would have been at a standstill if Providence had not come to his assistance and caused an ox to depart this life, the hide of which was converted into the much needed belts. This mill was kept constantly going until an unfortunate circumstance occurred which put a stop to further corn-cracking. The circumstance was as follows: A shower of rain came up towards evening while the mill was busy grinding, and as there was no cover to the mill, the hands went to the house for shelter; but the rain continued until night and the Judge forgot to take off the belts from the mill. The rain had somewhat softened the untanned leather and when the miller went to finish the grist in the morning the belts were gone. Tracks of wolves told the story; the rain having taken the toughness from the belts had made them suited to the rapacious appetites of the hungry wolves. Providence did not interfere again and the Judge had to wait some length of time, when he got suitable leather from the east.

In the fall of 1853 the first Indian difficulties commenced. The settlers in the different groves had not yet been troubled by Indian depredations and were indifferent and unbelieving when the strolling trappers told them that the Indians were beginning to be hostile.

'Twas a beautiful Autumn morning in the month of September when the settlers began to realize the truth of the reports of the hostility of the wandering bands of Sioux and Omahas. Bill Reed was sitting in his cabin in the village of Manteno, with three or four settlers, and Bill was telling one of his hair-breadth escapes when the cabin door opened and in stalked twelve Sioux warriors. Bill and his friends forgot the escape Bill had been relating, and were hoping that they might live to relate another in the evening. The warriors awed them by their majestic presence and immediately commenced clearing the house of all that an Indian could eat. The settlers sat like statues and like brave men never uttered a groan. The noble red men took pity upon them and left them all their hair but took everything else of value and started for the homes of other settlers.

In Lost Grove lived a man of the name of Carpenter. Carpenter was a broom maker. He used to take his brooms to St. Jo., Missouri, and sell them for ten cents each. Carpenter had a clearing of a few acres in which he raised his broom corn and garden truck. The place where this broom maker had this clearing is now thickly wooded by walnuts and hickorys, nine to fifteen inches in diameter. Carpenter had just lit his tallow dip, when he thought he heard a screeching noise. He opened the cabin door and listened; the most terrible yells greeted his ears; his blood chilled in his veins; he knew it was the war-whoop of the Sioux, and like a brave man, he put out the tallow dip and got under the bed and prayed – he usually used to swear, but danger like this would make any man change his tactics. The Indians came all around the cabin, but either Carpenter's prayers or thinking that it was a deserted cabin was the cause of their leaving without plundering. As soon as the last footsteps were gone, Carpenter got from under the bed and “struck out” to the house of widow McCole. He had barely got there when the yells of the Indians were heard. Carpenter's instinct caused him to again go to prayer under the widow's bed. He probably thought that closet prayer was the most effective. But this time the Indians came into the cabin and were beginning to help themselves to what they wanted, when the true Scotch grit of the brave widow was aroused and she quietly pushed one noble red over. He jumped up and was in the act of striking her when the widow, fully aroused, grasped a chair and went for the whole band and drove them out. Mrs. McCole then bro't Carpenter out of his closet and drove him after the Indians. She told him that he ought to do his praying when he was in no danger, and then he would be ready to fight when the “Injins” came.

The Indians camped this evening about two miles south of Dowville. The whole community was alarmed. During the day most of the settlers had been robbed. A favorite pony was stolen from Jim Butler and he was determined to have it, dead or alive. During the night the settlers gathered together; their number was about twenty. All were armed with rifles or shot guns. All were ready for action but Carpenter, and it was supposed that he was somewhere praying. The Indians' fires – when they were roasting the chickens and pork of the settlers – could be seen by the enraged settlers. The Indian braves were all dancing around their trophies, while some squaws were attending to the cooking, when the sharp crack of a dozen rifles were heard.

April 8, 1874

Chapter V.

Among the settlers was an Indian hunter named W. H. Jordan, who was the only person that understood the peculiarities of Indian warfare. He advised the shooting of the guns simultaneously for the purpose of alarming the few scattered settlers. His advice was thought good, and the people were alarmed, as also were the Indians. This was the volley which the Indian heard at the close of the last chapter, and immediately started on a retreat towards Mason's Grove, taking a small pony, belonging to James Butler, along with them. Jordan held a council of war, and it was conceded best to lay on their arms until morning, then prepare for a battle with the red warriors.

The morning came, and the white braves arose from their grassy beds and followed their leader, Jordan. A skirmish line was thrown out and surrounded the Indian encampment. Jordan, single and alone, made a sudden swoop upon the place where the Indians had their fires the night before, but behold the enemy had vanished; there was nothing left but a few feathers, a smothering fire and a dead dog. Jordan was indignant at the scarcity of Indians, and swore vengeance on the wily savages. A council of war was again held, and it was decided that they should convert themselves into cavalry, follow the retreating foe and give them battle. Several hours elapsed before the cavalry was organized. This was the first body of armed whites, who had meant extermination in Crawford County.

The Indians had taken nearly a straight line to Mason's Grove, and the exterminators were on their track. Jordan was the commander, and he kept in advance of the track of the pony which the Indians had stolen being plainly seen. Soon they came to a swamp and the track of the pony was lost, and their horses could not cross. The cavalry were compelled to make a circuit of a mile or two before they could cross the swamp or slough. The wonder was, how could the Indians cross the sloughs with the pony? They certainly crossed every swamp they had come to. An old trapper whom the cavalry met told them that he had seen the Indians cross a large slough with the pony, and he said that six large Indians threw the pony into a blanket and carried him over quite easily. The settlers pressed on and finally reached Mason's Grove, but the Indians had been there plundering and having got all they wanted had vamoused. Jordan and his men, having refreshed the inner-man, and given the Indians sufficient time to get out of their reach, started in pursuit. They followed the trail until night approached, when the commander ordered a retreat, which was complied with by the weary and tired settlers in a becoming manner.

Arriving at Mason's Grove they camped for the night. The settlers in Mason's Grove had nearly all been robbed by the Indians, but strange to say the men had not interfered until Jordan and his braves arrived. The number of guns ready for action in the whole company was fourteen. They were of various kinds, as follows: Jordan's rifle, which was never known to fail being with Jordan where he was. Four Revolutionary flink-lock muskets, whose history was unknown. Three single-barrel shot guns, formerly from England; one squirrel rifle, and one U. S. musket, which had a bayonet, but had served its time out at shooting. Jordan interested the citizens of the Grove by giving them the history of his wonderful rifle, and the many escapes he had had from the Indians. The cavalry listened with breathless attention to their commander until sleep overpowered them. In the morning the troops started back to their homes, feeling thankful that all had their scalps safe. Such was the first Indian scare in Crawford county.

May 6, 1874

Chapter VI.

[Describing the sorrows of Chloe, Mrs. Simeon E. Dow] In the summer of 1855, a number of men might have been seen busily employed in mowing the deep, rich, luxuriant grass where Dowville now stands. Never before had grass in this vicinity been cut by the pale faces. A little above where the men were mowing was a small cabin 14 feet long by 12 feet wide. We will take a look at the cabin and its occupants. As we approach we perceive that the cabin had two small holes left in the sides, as a substitute for windows, also a large one for a doorway – as yet there were neither doors or windows; the apertures filled the bill. On one end was a mud chimney, in genuine frontier style. We enter the cabin, and find that the occupants are a lady and a sweet little girl, the lady is seated on a stool and weeping; as she looks up we perceive that she is a lady of more than ordinary intelligence. She has been alone for a short time and has been taking a retrospective view of the happy past and also a prospective view into the unknown future. She tells us that she has just arrived and wonders why Providence should be so cruel as to bring her from a comfortable home to such a dismal region as this. While she is speaking, her husband enters bearing in his hand a cup of water from a spring which he had discovered, and which he said was one of the strongest veins of water he had ever seen. He presents the cup to his wife to taste the clear water, but instead of drinking, she gives vent to her full heart by a flood of tears. Her husband, who is a man devoted to his family, and full of never failing energy, endeavors to cheer and comfort his despairing partner. He speaks of the richness of this beautiful valley, and with a prophetic eye he looks forward a few years, and tells her that although Crawford county is in the far west, that but a few years will elapse before it will be in the center of this great country. He tells her that she will yet see a town on that very farm and the iron horse will travel up and down the Boyer valley. But all was of no avail, she still wept. Could this lady have seen through the future to the present time, she would have seen the hand of God had led her husband there. If she could have seen the many hearts which would be filled with gratitude by the kindness of herself and husband, if she could have had but a moment's peep at the year 1874 she would have exclaimed:

“Deep in unfathomable mines,
of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
and works his sovereign will.”

The industrious and energetic husband soon has a new log cabin erected, of large dimensions. Another link is added to make the place more attractive, by the advent of a little baby boy. Winter comes early, but it finds the husband prepared; the house is full of all necessaries. There are many who remember this terrible winter, which is said to have been the coldest in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Many settlers were not prepared when the winter came upon them and their sufferings were great.

Henry Custar had just finished a small cabin on the Nisnabotny when the cold commenced. His harvest consisted of some twelve bushels of buckwheat and a few bushels of corn. He was so situated that he could not get to the mill, and had it not been for his wife's ingenuity the family would hardly have lived through the winter. The corn she converted into hominy, and the buckwheat she ground in the coffee mill, and by stinting the family a little she made the stock last until the close of the winter. This was the winter preceding the winter of deep snow, and the same will be the subject for future sketches.

Used With permission from Crawford County Historic Preservation Commission

Back to Crawford Co. Homepage