---

CHAPTER XXXII.

---

REMINISCENCES, CONTINUED.

MEAD'S RANCH — RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY TIMES — AN INDIAN SCARE — EARLY SCHOOLS IN EL DORADO — A TORNADO — WING IN THE SEVENTIES.

MEAD'S RANCH.

By J. R. Mead, Wichita, Kansas.

My acquaintance with Butler county dates only from the spring of 1863—a short time when I consider that people of some intelligence resided along your rivers hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years ago, as I have evidence, but who unfortunately left no history—no one told their history.

I found a few white people when I came—perhaps 150, but of those Early settlers how few remain! The first I met were typical of the frontier. They were encamped in the timber at Sycamore Springs; Dave Ballou, a Cherokee, with his three wives and followers, also Dick Pratt and some companions, rigged out in all the splendors of an Indian-made buckskin suit, broad brimmed hat decorated with gay ribbons, a pair of revolvers in fringed and elaborate scabbards, and the usual complement of spurs, quirt, etc. Dick was a merry free lance, handsome, picturesque, gay, cheeks as rosy as a girl's, his glossy black hair hanging in ringlets on his shoulders, in appearance a modern Dick Turpin and Lothario combined. Further down the Walnut we met another type and kind in the persons of Judge J. C. Lambdin and George I. Donaldson and their refined and hospitable families, who had brought to the wilderness the culture and refinement of the East. Near by two or three buildings were called Chelsea, which was the county seat. Here I met Mart Vaught, Dr. Lewellen, Henry Martin, the Bemis family, the politics talker—Judge Wm. Harrison—T. W. Satchell, Mr. Jones, "Whiskey" Stewart and D. L. McCabe, whose hospitality was only limited by their means, which was true of all the people I met in the county. The African was much in evidence also—the Gaskins family just above El Dorado.

Still following the trail south, I made camp at old El Dorado. The present city was then an unclaimed prairie. Here on the Walnut river

---

380

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

was the crossing of the great "California Trail;" also the Osage trail, to their hunting grounds on the Arkansas. And here Stine & Dunlap, famous Indian traders, kept a small store. Some rented buildings showed attempt at town building, but were deserted on account of the war of the rebellion to the South, and savage tribes to the West. One or two families lived at the crossing near by. Jerry Connor had a house and claim; also Harvey Young, and some others I have forgotten. Lieutenant Matthew Cowley and Mr. Johnson were living on the West Branch.

As my object was to hunt big game and engage in the fur trade for sport and profit. I followed the Osage trail west to the Whitewater, the last settlement this side of New Mexico. Finding a lovely spot by a big spring with abundant timber near, I pitched my camp to stay. I bought out J. C. Chandler's buildings and improvements, put up other buildings, brought my wife and baby boy, put in a stock of goods for my neighbors, my hunters, and the Indians, who soon came about in hundreds. There were a few settlers on Whitewater at that time. William Vann, Martin Huller, Dan Cupp, who helped build my house; Anthony Davis, "Old Man Gillian;" and at Plum Grove, like an oasis in the desert, lived Joseph Adams and his excellent family. Soon came Samuel C. Fulton, Mrs. Lawton and her son, Jack, and others. As soon as I was settled I made a hunt on the Arkansas to show the rather discouraged settlers what could be done in that line. I took two inexperienced men with two teams and in three weeks was back with 330 buffalo hides, 3500 pounds of buffalo tallow, and some elk, antelope, etc., and fooled away several days with an alleged hunter named Buckner, who went in the company to get a load of meat and show me how to kill buffalo. I loaded him up and sent him home. Soon I had half the men in the county hunting or trading. These I outfitted and supplied their families while they were gone. None of them failed to make returns; people were honest in those days, including our Red Brother. Of the Indians, one winter I obtained 3,000 Buffalo robes.

The Government sent Agent Major Milo Gookins to look after the various Indian bands, and he established his agency at my place. We had a school in a long building on the hill where Towanda is built, and Father Stansbury preached once a month at my house, simon pure gospel without price or creed.

Life had its tragedies then, as now. Of those employed by me, George Adams died from exposure in the icy waters of the Arkansas. Jack Lawton was shot by an outlaw at the mouth of the Arkansas. Sam Carter died of cholera at my house.

At my home and trading post, widely known as "Mead's Ranch," were born to me two daughters and a son, and there, passed to her long rest, my beloved wife, whose life was full of love and kindness.

The seven years I lived in Butler county, from 1863 to 1869, were full of activity and success with much of joy and sorrow. Butler coun-

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

381

ty in those years was as nature made it, beautiful to the eye, green prairies, gushing springs, stately timber, clear flowing streams; birds and fish abounded and nearby were elk, deer, antelope and buffalo innumerable, free to all for the taking.

RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY TIMES.

By D. M. Elder.

I have been asked to give my recollections of early life in Butler county.

Be it remembered that Butler county as a farming community dates from 1870. Previous to that year the population was sparse. The frontiersmen, hunters, trappers, Indian traders, etc., date back to 1860 and a very few a few years beyond, but the bulk of the homesteaders came in 1870.

Uncle Joe Adams, who came before 1860, lived in 1870 on section 6, in what is now Plum Grove township; Daniel Stine, at the junction of Walnut and Whitewater rivers; an Indian trader, J. R. Mead, at Towanda; J. C. Lambdin at Chelsea; James Gillian and Kige Bemis, who should be classed as frontiersmen. Then came the hunters, adventurers, and men who were dodging the sheriffs in other States. Part of these men came in 1860 and some before.

The bulk of the farmers and homemakers came in 1870. It must be remembered that the homesteaders settled on the two western tiers of townships and north of the Osage diminished reserve, the north line of which is about four miles south of El Dorado. This was given up by the Osage tribe in 1870. That winter witnessed their breaking camp from their village north of Douglass. In the summer of 1870 Northeast Butler, east of the west line of Lincoln and El Dorado townships, and North Osage lands had been opened for public entry and was known and deeded as Speculators' Land, including what was known as Peck, and afterwards Potwin Land, also Lawrence Land, both of which were known as Railroad Land. This was given by the United States to the State for educational purposes but in reality the dishonest legislators gave it to the railroad promoters. This shows why the southern part of the county was more thickly settled. The Osage land was sold to settlers for $1.25 per acre.

The first town in Kansas at which I stopped to look was Abilene, then a Texas cow town. I was told by the cattlemen that the Whitewater country was the best in Kansas, which so impressed me as to cause me to come to see. The first person I became acquainted with after arriving was C. V. Cain, our Charley, who was building the best house in Northwest Butler on section 16 in Plum Grove township, and boarding with Bob Dearman in the house so long occupied by William I. Joseph. I boarded there until I located land and I never regretted my first acquaintance.

---

382

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

Homesteads were plenty and easy to get for the first year. I recollect I could have located a homestead on the town site of either Wichita, Newton or McPherson. I remember of picketing my pony on Main street of Wichita and I thought it too sandy. Emporia was the nearest railroad town—sixty miles distant. My first trip after moving in was for mower and rake and lumber for a shack.

Horace Wilcox, who lived with his family in a log cabin about eighteen by twenty feet, with one small window and one door and nature's floor, was the principal cattle man. He had perhaps 200 Texas cattle. Henry Cornstock was next in importance with perhaps thirty head. Stark Sp�nce had about twenty head. He lived in a cabin which also had nature's floor but it was very fashionable with the earliest settlers. Dugouts and sod houses were not so common here as farther west. Cattle wintered largely on open range, which was then thirty miles west. Buffalo were found occasionally as they would stray into the herds of cattle. Hunters went out in the winter and filled their wagons with buffalo meat and a few hides. John and Andy Smith and Sam Crow often found deer and antelope to supply the larder south of Burns.

It was a common saying for years that the best house in any school district was the school house, which was largely true. A large per cent. of the population were ex-soldiers, a small number of whom were "Confeds." I don't recall any serious disagreements. We treated the "Johnnies" cordially. They were here from almost every State in the Union and many European nations. A big influx of Russian Menonites came in the early seventies. They brought their farming tools and equipment with them. Their thrashing machines didn't look much like ours and I never saw one in use after being shipped so far. They learned their lessons and became good citizens. Here the "Johnnie" forgot he was a southerner and became a real American. We all imbibed the ideas of the others and became possessed of the knowledge of all, hence the great progress. The early settlers were temperate as a class, which placed Kansas in the lead. The other States are following her example. The Prohibition amendment to the Constitution was ratified in 1880.

In recalling those early days we think the teachers are worthy of notice, a few of whom are still with us. John Austin, our late city engineer, taught several terms before taking up his work as treasurer, surveyor, etc. Charles Page, now deceased, also taught school grasshopper year. Molly Burns, George Dafron (now deceased); Lou Shriver, now Mrs. S. R. Clifford; Fanny Hull Wilson; Alice Stevenson Gray; Florence Stearns, now wife of Dare Wait; Ada Newburry, later Mrs. Frank Ewing, deceased; Esther Newburry, now Mrs. George Tolle; Emma Lambing, now Mrs. James Wilson; Miss Hattie Weeks; John Shelden; Jos. Morton, William Price, deceased; Nell Hawley; Miss Lamb, and Nettie Maynard were all teachers in those early days. The writer taught the "Brown school" in Clifford township in 1874. Mr. and Mrs. Alvah Shelden also taught school, as did Mrs. John Riley .Riley

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

383

was later a newspaper man and went to Arkansas. Old Aunt Jane Wentworth; who died in a fire caused by herself, is said to have taught school. Mrs. Hunt taught the Sutton Branch school and often walked out from El Dorado in the mornings and returned in the evenings. Prof. Shively and John Blevins taught and were county superintendents. Alvah Shelden was also superintendent. The Brown sisters, Mrs. J. K. Nelson, Mrs. Austin Brumback, Miss Lillie Brown, and Ida Brown; W. H. Litson, J. C. Elliot, Mrs. Clara Brumback; Emma Harvey, Pricilia McGuinn; Lavella Recton,, Alfred Synder, Flora Donaldson, O. E. Olin and Celia Boessma were all successful teachers. A report of the teachers institute clipped from the Walnut "Times" of 1877 gave the attendance as eighty-two. The teacher's certificate issued in those early days gives subjects taught similiar to those now required. Some of the embryo lawyers of the late 1870's taught school, among whom were Ed. Stratford, V. P. Mooney, Austin and Ed Brumback, Freemont Leidy and others.

Bachelors constituted nearly a third of the homesteaders, among whom were the Neiman boys, E. B. Brainard, Bert Magill, James Shoots, D. M. Elder, James Morton, Mart Ashenfelter, John and Sam Austin, and numerous others. Marriageable girls and widows were few in the early seventies.

Preaching and preachers were scarce but Sabbath schools were soon organized and many of them would compare favorably with the present schools. Such a school was organized in the school house near John Wentworth's and continued for five years without missing a Sabbath. Jacob Holderman was the first active worker, but he soon died and I have no doubt went to Abraham's bosom, for he was a worthy man. D. M. Elder and Joseph Morton took up the work he started. Lizzie Randall (Mrs. Will Randall), a sister of Charles and William Cain, furnished the music for public meetings and Sunday school in the Northwest part of the county, and occasionally went as far as Augusta.

The early settlers were generally law-abiding and many God-fearing people. The first year, 1870, we heard of horse and cattle theives,[sic] but after the Regulators near Douglass took action the business became unpopular and has since remained so.

Butler county was without railroad facilities until 1877—although the A. T. & S. F. Railway was built as far west as Newton in 1871. It was a cattle town with dance halls and saloons. A graveyard was soon established for the burial of fellows who "died with their boots on." Wichita soon took its place as a cattle point and Dodge City also became prominent. This part of the country was then freed of that class of citizens, which included the "quick on trigger marshal" and Wild Bill and others of that kind.

Preachers were scarce. Occasionlly[sic] a "God-made preacher" came forward. I remember one in particular whom I shall call "Old Yank." Old Yank felt called upon to deliver his message to the sinner and after

---

384

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

some talk he sent word that he would preach at Lone Star. As a result about fifteen came to hear him. He arose very meekly and announced his text but became stage-struck and after stammering awhile he said: "I am no preacher of the Gospel" (accent on the last syllable), and after repeating that remark three times we out of symapthy[sic] for him told him we understood and the old fellow sat down in some agony. This ended his ministerial career.

Another middle-aged man who thought himself well-gifted used to hold forth when asked. He had a well-prepared sermon in three heads, which was like the song "Our Old Cow—She Crossed the Road" that had three verses which were all alike. The opening paragraph was: "Oh, yes, my beloved brethren." He would give his entire sermon in a very high key and for variation would repeat in a lower key and again in a still lower key and so continue until he had his subject driven home. I was present one night at a protracted meeting when he was asked to preach. I wouldn't have been there if I had know[sic] he was to talk. I had said in the presence of Mrs. Thomas Wallace that his repetitions made me think of a little dog chasing his tail. While I was enduring it with all fortitude possible my eyes met Mrs. Wallace's. She was looking at me with an expression that indicated what she was thinking and laughed aloud—the first time I ever laughed out in meeting, which mortified me to such an extent that I left immediately. I never knew of his preaching again and it may have been that my rudeness wrecked his career.

Another old gentleman who had raised a good crop of potatoes in 1874 was at a sale in the early spring of 1875, and was asked by a man who knew he had them and wanted some to plant, if he would sell some. The old gentleman, fearing that if he sold them he would be prevented from receiving aid, replied: "No, sir, I haven't nary tater to spare," and this fear of spoiling his chances of drawing aid caused him to put them in the loft, which not being strong, gave way one night and came near killing him and an old maid daughter.

Another story used to be told of a preacher who went East to solicit aid. He succeeded in getting $10 to aid some struggling church, and when he got back he reported the gift and then announced that as they were needy he would preach it out to them in the school house, wich[sic] was judicious and well considered.

AN INDIAN SCARE.

By Mrs. M. A. Avery.

Thinking perhaps I could contribute a few reminisences of the early pioneer days in northwest Butler. I will relate a few incidents in connection with the Indian scare:

My husband and myself and our three-year-old boy, Ulysses Sher-

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

385

man, settled in Clifford township in April, 1868. Unloading our goods in the timber near the creek until four posts were driven into the ground, a few thin boards that we had brought in the bottom of the wagon were laid over the top as a protection from rain. Carpets and quilts were hung around three sides, while the wagon box with bows and cover on filled the fourth side and provided us with a sleeping apartment. Our stove, chairs, table, etc., were put inside and we were "at home" to any who called.

In a month's time we had a garden planted and a little stone cabin erected on the hill where the present dwelling stands. Although the stone building was small and rudely built it was home and we were monarchs of all we surveyed. Our nearest neighbor was Dr. I. V. Davis and his brother, William, (both bachelors), three and one-half miles northwest of us. Thomas H. Ferrier and family lived directly west about the same distance. John Wentworth and his father-in-law, Joseph Adams, lived five miles south; while to the north and east it was eighteen miles to the nearest house.

Imagine what our feelings were when one afternoon in the last of May or the first of June (I have forgotten the exact date) a boy came riding up in great haste, crying out, "Everybody is going to El Dorado to try and protect their families. The Indians are expected every minute to kill settlers and drive off stock." Although feeling that it could not be true we thought "discretion the better part of valor" and hurriedly throwing into the wagon what eatables were handy, some bedding,,, a gun and our saddles in case we should be pressed and have to abandon our wagon and escape on horse-back, we drove rapidly down the stream until we joined the familes[sic] of T. L. Ferrier, J. Carns, Jacob Green and James Jones, who had all been warned in the same way of the danger. As we formed in a procession with pale-faced women and frightened children our thought went back to when, as children, we had read of the Indian raids in eastern states in their early settlements and we imagined that the massacre would soon begin and every eye was busy watching for the approach of the dusky foe. Arriving at El Dorado we were all welcomed to a long, low new building occupied by William Show and family and located somewhere near where the postoffice now stands. All the old guns brought in by the settlers were stacked in the middle of the room and looked very war-like as they ranged from the old-fashioned squirrel gun to the Springfield rifle.

At night the beds weer[sic] spread all over the floor and were occupied by the women and children, while some of the men stood guard and tried to devise ways and means for killing the Indians if they did put in an appearance. As we women learned afterwards there were only about a dozen loads of ammunition in the town, but morning dawned at last and we began to breathe freer, and as the day wore on and we were still unmolested we could begin to see the humorous side of the big scare. One old lady in the hurry of getting ready to leave home had been so

---

386

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

solicitious for the comfort and cleanliness of her family that she insisted on loading in a keg of soft soap and after getting several miles from home discovered that she had forgotten her shoes and stockings and was wearing a child's hood upon her head with the summer sunshine pouring down upon her.

My husband and Mr. Carns returned to the homesteads to see if there were any signs of trouble, but the humble homes were unmolested and the few cattle and horses were grazing peacefully on the hills. However, we tarried one more night at El Dorado and then returned to our homes. Later on it was learned that the Cheyenne Indians had passed north of us near Marion, Marion county, going to Council Grove to fight the Kaws who were stationed near there. Although they helped themselves to everything they wanted in the line of eatables, etc., no lives were taken, but many women and children had an experience that will long be remembered.

Many people left the country for good while those few who had the courage and perserverance necessary to battle with the hardships and privations incident to opening up a new country are now among our most substantial citizens. Although they have since fought grasshoppers, drouths and other pestilences they are still standing up for Kansas.

EARLY SCHOOLS IN EL DORADO.

By the Late Dr. E. Cowles.

I made my first visit to Butler county in 1868. El Dorado at that time had only rough buildings of native lumber, nailed up and down as a barn and nothing inside over the studding. I filed on eighty acres of land, the Mendenhall property west of the city, bought a lot in town and proceeded to build a house. On July 30, 1868, I taught my first school and the first schcool[sic] taught in El Dorado, a three-month term. The school room was situated on the east side of South Main street and near its intersection of Second avenue. It was illy fitted for the purpose compared with what I had been used to in New England. During the following years of 1868 and 1870, I taught a number of successive terms; my second being in a room on the west side of Main street, nearly opposite the site of the first. The next school term was begun by T. R. Wilson, but being one of the school board, he engaged me to finish the last half of the term, soon after, and upon the completition[sic] of the first school building erected on the town site—built of stone on the southwest corner of First avenue and Washington street. This building with (then) modern desks and improvements was a very acceptable place for a good school. Here public meetings were held, as houses for such were few. Here, too, a union Sabbath school was organized under my supervision.

During this period of service in the school room the practice of

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

387

medicine had been laid aside. During the succeeding three years the demands in practice occupied most of my time. The public schools of the county were demanding new and increased interests, such as the formation of new districts, the erection of school houses and the other needful work incident to a rapidly increasing population.

A TORNADO.

By Mrs. B. F. Adams, in 1895.

The people of the Eastern States have an idea that Kansas is the home of the cyclone and the hurricane. We once combatted their errors, but have long since quit it as unprofitable. This is no longer a pioneer land. The fact is that Kansas is no more subject to such disturbances of the atmosphere than other States and not so much as many. When they do come they are usually "twisters," i. e., cyclones. Here is one that was quite general in the county, resulting in the loss of several lives and the wrecking of much property, especially the lightly built "claim" houses of those days. This was in the nature of a tornado. A striaght[sic] blow from the northwest. The late Mrs. B. F. Adams told the story of its work of devastation: How vividly the picture is photographed on the tablets of memory of all who were residents of El Dorado at the close of that eventful day, June 16, 1871. At this time we see little but a sad picture to present, which shows us fully "there is a time to laugh and a time to weep." The day had been intensely hot and as the sun had nearly completed his round, a cloud commenced forming in the northwest. As I lay in my bed with my new-born son, Spencer, south of town (now the F. M. Myers estate) my position was such that I had full view of the cloud from its inception that forboded ill to the town. Its appearance really seemed indescribable; apparently a great wall of inky blackness, from which came the vivid electrical flashes, grand in one sense, yet behind it were the missiles of destruction and death. Soon there was a rumbling sound "as the rushing of a mighty wind," and so it was. A moment later, about 7:30, that bank of blackness had burst upon us in all its fury, and continued with but little cessation for an hour and a half. The appalling sensation at such times cannot be described; it is only realized when felt, and at these times do we fully feel how frail we are and our utter helplessness. Our house, although rocked like a cradle, was left standing. He who stills the winds saw fit to save and shelter us and for which our hearts turned with gratitude. Buff Wood, living immediately north of us, had his house broken and twisted so it was not safe, picked up his sick wife (Bessie Carey) and sought shelter with us, Mrs. Fetterman, Mrs. Wood's sister, with her baby following them through the beating storm, crawling and feeling their way along as best they could. Just north of them lived a widow and her two

---

388

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

daughters by the name of Leard, whose house and the contents were entirely swept away and the mother badly hurt. They, too, crawled to our place for shelter and all that came to us for shelter were bruised and beaten by the hailstones. They were indeed a pitable sight ond[sic] we tendered them all the hospitality in our power. Mrs. McCabe was tenderly binding up wounds and pouring "oil in wine." We could not make a fire for our shivering guests and dry clothing was a scarce article with us. Nothing could be found dry but a couple of pairs of my husband's pantaloons and the same of shirts. But there was no query about shape or fit. The old lady and Mrs. Fetterman donned them with a will and were comfortable in that garb until the next day.

Twenty-one houses were moved from their foundations. Some were damaged considerably, others but slightly. I do not now recollect the number of buildings entirely destroyed. Silas Welch, on South Main street, had just finished a kitchen and porch. All, with the contents of the kitchen, were carried no one could tell where. The main part of the house was moved on an adjoining lot and the furniture badly damaged. William Price and his bride, who were enjoying their honeymoon in their cozy home on South Main street, had their kitchen torn oway,[sic] the house badly demoralized and themselves set out in the beating storm. Judge W. P. Campbell suffered severely. His house stood on the ground now occupied for the city park; it was entirely demolished, himself, wife and Miss Susie Lawrence all being roughly handled by the elements and their child seriously injured.

Those who received the most severe blows were the families of Sam Langdon and Dr. J. A. McKenzie. Mr. Langdon. living two miles south of town, had his log house torn down and a little daughter buried beneath its ruins. Dr. McKenzie, who had not long occupied his new home on Settler street, directly west of the John Caldwell home, had it laid in ruins, the Doctor was seriously hurt and Mrs. McKenzie slightly. Their daughter, Gertrude, escaped unhurt, but Lonell, their little three and one-half years old son, perished that terrible night. Taken from his mother's arms as she was preparing him for bed she saw him no more until shrouded in his coffin. His lifeless form was found near where the El Dorado Carriage Works now are. Our hearts were all touched, for we had learned to love the bright little fellow. He is safe over; no storm can reach him now, "and he is waiting and beckoning for thee." H. H. Gardner and John Gilmore had their house and goods considerably damaged. Mrs. William H. Thomas had her house badly wrecked and the most of her millinery goods ruined.

Jacob Carey's house, just south of it, was lifted and moved so that the family deserted it and swam accross[sic] to the livery barn. That barn, the old stone hotel and Dr. White's house seemed to be tornado proof and were place's of general gathering for the homeless and benighted suferers.[sic] Mrs. Thomas managed through difficulties to reach the barn, but found that some of the back of her dress was gone and she was

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

389

minus a portion of her hair that so beautifully ornamented her head. The next day her hair was found fast to the tin roof of the court house down in Silas Welch's yard. This is one of the hairbreadths. A. Mussulman's house was laid in ruins. His family of seven were scattered and lost, groping their way in different parts of town. Mrs. Mussulman found her way to Carey's barn, having lost the most of her clothing. Col. H. T. Sumner was found on his knees imploring Divine aid, as his house was about to be carried away. Col. W. H. Redden's house, which was not yet completed, was blown to pieces, himself injured and household goods badly damaged. George and Eugene Younkman, who were keeping house for I. M. Bobb, had their shanty carried off from them and for a time they sought refuge under a buffalo skin. After the storm had somewhat subsided they undertook to go home and came very near being drowned.

The next morning was just as lovely as a Kansas June morning can be. But there was devastation all around. Crops that the night before had seemingly looked more promising than ever had been broken and beaten into the ground so that there was scarcely a blade visible. Yet for all these we had great reason to be thankful. Thankful that we were spared to look at the beautiful sunlight, and while it was thought that no good thing would come out of what seemed to be lifeless, the wind started up from the southeast and in forty-eight hours the mangled and bruised stalks of corn and vegetation took on new life so that we were blessed with a fair crop after all. During that entire summer whenever there was a cloud commenced to rise in the northwest we might see those who had their homes wrecked starting for places of safety and the bruises and cuts from the great hail stones were a constant reminder of what they had passed through and what they wanted to steer clear of if possible.

WING IN THE SEVENTIES.

By Hattie B. Kelly.

It was two o'clock, September 21, 1872, a typical Kansas autumn day, when the denizens of Hickory Creek began gathering at the P. B. Whittlesy farm, now the M. C. Kelly place, for the purpose of making arrangements for raising money to build a school house in what is now Wing school district No. 43. Little being accomplished at this meeting, it was not until March 27, 1873, that the sum of $300 was unanimously voted for the purchase of material and building. John Duff, John Wing, Nathan Blunt, M. J. Hampton, Minos West, A. J. Lightfoot, Wesley Cornell, John Shannon., Mrs. Steel, P. B. Whittlesy, Riley Rather and others having paid Uncle Sam the required sum of two hundred dollars for their respective quarter sections, accepted the burden of taxation thus imposed upon them, and while it was thus easily decided to build,

---

390

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

considerable controversy existed as to the location. Whether the broad view, the great distance from water, the exposure to the Kansas zephyrs or the advantage of athletics in hill climbing were the arguments that won for the present location, I am not able to say, but John Wing, in consideration of the house bearing his name, gave to the district the present site of two acres of ground and that being composed of earth and gravel outweighed argument, and at the meeting held on July 21, 1873, the vote stood fourteen for the present site and seven against it. The patrons of the school were to haul the lumber for the building, the framing from the Timber creek saw mill and the siding, roofing and flooring and other material from Emporia, the nearest railroad station at that time. E. M. Kelly hauled and unloaded the first load of framing timber and in a spirit of public benefaction, attempted to lay out a road by descending the bluff just north of the present school building, but as it was some time in the night not discernable by the north star, neither he nor the public were ever afterward able to find the road.

It was after the rest of the lumber had arrived from Emporia that Mr. Penn, the contractor and builder, discovered that some one had blundered and the sheeting for the roof was no longer than the required dimensions of the building, but Emporia was too far away to rectify the mistake and Wing was built, an eye-sore to lovers of good architecture.

It was in the fall and winter of 1873 that the first school was taught by Miss Phoebe Baily, the house having previously been furnished with home-made desks far too high for the average pupil. A blackboard of three rough boxing boards fastened together, painted black and suspended from the wall by pieces of leather and a huge box stove in which vain attempts were made to burn green elm wood. The stove had unfortunately been placed in the northwest corner of the house and that as built offered but little resistence to the wintry blasts, and the pupils were often obliged to gather around the stove after the manner of a large family circle.

It was during this first term that the teacher, having occasion to chastise a scholar, almost a young man, for some misconduct, deferred the matter until the next day, either to let her anger subside or to procure the necessary hickory. The young man, too, came prepared by placing a young sheep skin beneath his clothes, and whether the imperviousness of this scholar to hickory oil gave Wing the name of a hard school, I am not able to say, but such was its reputation which led subsequent teachers into disagreeable follies. Our second teacher, a Mr. Allen, was second to none in inefficiency. He walked to his boarding place, some two and a half miles away, in order to have that lady help him with arithmetical problems that he was unable to solve. His smaller pupils, having learned the order of their classes, would take their places out on the floor without being called to recite their lessons and return to their seats without any of the teacher's concern. His

---

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

391

arbitrary methods of expulsion having gained him the ill will of a great many, the young men of the neighborhood bombarded the school house with rocks, barricaded the door with cord wood and the teacher and scholars found it necessary to make their exit through the window. Thus peremptorily ended our second term of school.

Wing was not without romance, and our third term ended in the elopement and marriage of the teacher, Miss Carrie Smith, to Louis F. Hayes, a young man of the neighborhood. Our fourth term passed off quietly with Miss Jennie Hayes as teacher, making a total of twelve months in four years. Our fifth term of four months was taught by R. R. Davis, of Douglass. The school board adopted uniformity of text books and we were provided with a better blackboard and later on a coal stove was placed in the center of the house with coal for fuel added greatly to the comfort of teachers and scholars. H. C. Walers, R. R. Davis, a second term, and Mr. Crisp completes the record for the decade.

Forty years have wrought a great many changes. M. C. Kelly is the only one now living that attended the first meeting in the district. Mrs. Belle Sumwalt, of Latham; Mrs. Hattie Kelly, of Latham, and Mrs. Etta Asmussen, of Leon, are the only residents of the county that attended school at Wing in the seventies. Even Wing, of which I write, has been replaced by a more commodious building.

Only those who enjoyed the meager school facilities of those early days could fully appreciate the advantages of Wing as it is today, and while we have just cause to lament those early disadvantages, we rejoice that the scholars of 1916 can be better provided for.

Still sits the school house on the hill,    A most conspicuous thing, A landmark seen from far and near,    And by its name called Wing. The prairie grass still grows upon    The school house playing ground, And wild flowers bloom there like those    I long ago had found. The same old rocks are on the hill,    The hollows on each side, The landscape, too, is much the same—    It still is far and wide. And to the north Old Hickory runs    On t'ward the setting sun; 'Tis ever in a hurry,    Yet its work is never done.

---

392

HISTORY OF BUTLER COUNTY

And from the resin weed, the lark    Sends forth the self-same trill; I thought it said when I was young    That laziness you will kill. But the faces, loving faces,    That we met there day by day, There are now none left to greet us    As we pass along life's way. Forty years have brought great changes,    But the memory lingers still; Oh, the days when I in childhood    Went to school on that same hill.

---

Previous | Main Page | Biography Index | Next

---

Pages 379-392,