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CHAPTER X. MY FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE PLAINS.
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the 18th of January, 1863, while clerking in the Atchison
post-office--holding the position of assistant postmaster
under John A. Martin, afterwards governor, during Lincoln's
first administration, I was appointed express messenger on
the great overland stage line. The "run" was from Atchison,
Kan., to Denver, Colo.; distance, 653 miles. I was to start
on my first trip the following Monday morning, January 23.
Although for some time I had had a desire for some such
position, the appointment was a complete surprise, and I
hardly knew what to think of it. Having for ten years been
housed up in a dozen or more printing-offices and two years
in the post-office, my first thought was, "Can I stand such
a trip?"
flannel overalls, fur muffler, a small shawl, buffalo overshoes, and last but not least, a Wesson breech-loading rifle, a Colt's navy revolver, with belt and scabbard and plenty of ammunition. My paraphernalia being all arranged, on the following Monday morning I was ready for duty. Repairing to the company's office on the south side of Commercial street, between the levee and Second street, I began to check up on the way-bill for the various packages placed in my charge--a number of them containing treasure--and at eight o'clock, with the valuables in the strong box, and the box placed in the front boot of the stage-coach, with the bulky packages secure in the rear boot, I buckled on my "hip howitzer" and was prepared for my first trip to Denver. A load of passengers was inside the stage. The driver, after receiving the "way pocket" from the agent, gave the leaders the lash, and in an instant we were off on our way across the plains. The wind was blowing cold from the northwest, and when the stage reached Lancaster, the first station, ten miles out, I was thoroughly chilled. I said nothing, however, about being cold. The driver changed teams and was ready to move on in three or four minutes, for no time must be wasted at the frequent stations. Again mounting the box with the driver, we were on our way to the next station--Kennekuk--fourteen miles distant. Thomas Perry kept the eating station, and Mrs. Perry had a smoking-hot dinner ready, with the very best of coffee, to which we did ample justice. In early days dances were held there, and, when a young man sparking the girl that became his wife, Hon. D. W. Wilder used to "trip the light fantastic toe" at the old station, Kennekuk was the first "home" station out from Atchison, and here drivers were changed. It was a little town of perhaps a dozen houses, having a store, blacksmith shop, etc. The Kickapoo Indian agency was one of the most prominent buildings here, located near the old road, in the northwest part of the town. Leaving Kennekuk, it was but a short distance to the eastern border of the Kickapoo reservation, containing 152,417 acres--undoubtedly one of the finest bodies of land in Kansas. The old stone mission of the tribe, erected as early as 1851, and which subsequently had been one of the very prominent landmarks in that part of Kansas, visible for many miles in all directions, was less than a mile northwest of the stage station, adjoining the now |
thriving city of Horton. Nothing at this time remains of the old structure except a portion of the basement walls. The mission was q prominent building in the '50's, and in it a few years later a room was fitted up where the Indian boys and girls were taught to read and write by Miss Annie G. Adams, eldest daughter of the late Hon. Henry J. Adams, a Kansas pioneer, and the first free-state mayor of Leavenworth. It is also said a portion of the old building was used as a hotel in the later '50's by the stage company. Maj. C. B. Keith was, in the early '50's, agent for the Kickapoos. He was afterwards succeeded by Maj. Abram Bennett, of Kennekuk; and later the position was given to Judge F. G. Adams, of Atchison, one of the Kansas free-state pioneers, who came out in 1855, and, from 1875 until the day of his death, December 2, 1899, was secretary. of the Kansas State Historical Society. At Kennekuk the road from St. Joseph, thirty-five miles distant, intersected this important overland highway across the plains, over which the stages, most of the military stores, mill and mining machinery and a large part of the commerce of the plains passed. Originally the route was the great military road overland, its eastern or initial starting-point being Fort Leavenworth. The road from Atchison intersected this important highway at Mormon Grove, so called because, in the early '50's, it was a favorite camping spot for the "Latter-day Saints," some three miles out from Atchison. Kickapoo stage station, located on the reservation, and christened in honor of the famous tribe of Indians bearing that name, was the next stopping place, twelve miles farther west. The house was kept by a New Yorker from Painted Post named H. N. Rising, a Kansas pioneer and surveyor. This station was reached a little after three o'clock, when another change of teams was made. Along the stage line, there were only two or three houses visible on the reservation between the stations of Kennekuk and Kickapoo. The land comprising the old reservation is gently rolling prairie, well watered with springs and creeks, and also quite well timbered for a Western prairie country, having a goodly supply of walnut, elm, oak, and cottonwood. In short, it is one of the garden spots of northern Kansas. Across the western line of the reservation was the next station, distant thirteen miles, called Log Chain. |
 Exciting Chase of Robert Sewell ("Old Bob Ridley.") Page 194. |
ROBERT SEWELL. "Old Bob Ridley." (From an old photograph.) Log Chain was the home of "Old Bob Ridley," who was considerable of a character on the overland line in the early '60's. The most of his stage driving was on the eastern division, at various points between Atchison and Fort Kearney. Bob was a quiet, good-natured fellow, and greatly admired by his friends. Many a time have I sat on the box and ridden with him all night. Besides being one of the very best of fellows, he was also a great story-teller, a good conversationalist, and he never failed to entertain his listeners. His real name was Robert Sewell, but not one person in a hundred ever knew him on the overland route by any other name than "Old Bob Ridley." * In the early staging days on this line it seems he had the foresight to select a quarter-section of choice land near Log Chain station, which he steadily improved; he settled down to hard work on the land (after the Union Pacific had superseded the stage line), and made of the place a splendid farm. Bob afterwards moved to Wetmore, on the Central Branch Union Pacific railroad, a few miles southeast from the historic old Log Chain station, and died *"Bob was a humorist; and he had a great faculty for begging tobacco of the passengers, when he met the up- or down-coming coach. A man would pass his plug to Bob, who would cut off a great chunk and put in his pocket, and then, as he was about to pass the Plug back, cut off aonther (sic) piece, remarking: 'I have a brother that chews, and I guess I'll take a little for him.' Congressman Champ Clark, of Missouri, was one of his victims; and when he made the stereotyped remark about his brother chewing, and handed back the remnant of the plug, Clark examined it, and then threw it at him with the remark: 'I guess the whole family chews, and you'd better take the rest.' The laugh was on Bob that time, but he picked up the tobacco and thanked the congressman very politely. He kept all the stock tenders and other drivers on his run in tobacco. He was a very liberal fellow, and only begged tobacco out of 'pure cussedness.' for the 'fun of the thing.' He was a faithful man, and I once saw him catch two fellows by the nape of their necks and bump their heads together till they could see stars, when they were about to fight, remarking to the belligerents: 'Your little hands were never made to tear each other's eyes.'"- Levi Hensel. -13 |
there, in the later '80's, greatly respected by a large number of warm friends and acquaintances. In many respects Bob Ridley was a curiosity. At times he used to drive in and out of Atchison, and nearly all the old-timers there knew him. Although he was very quiet, he was a man possessed of nerves of steel. He was engaged one time in staging days to take an extra coach from Atchison for some special purpose across the plains to Denver, Nothing remarkable on this trip occurred, however, until Cottonwood Springs, near the junction of the Platte forks, was passed. Soon the four mules hitched to the stage began to get uneasy and started off at a lively gait. So keen to run were the animals that it was with difficulty Bob could hold them. When a point a few miles west of the station was reached, a roving band of Indians, with a whoop and a hideous yell, swept down from the adjacent hills south of the Platte and made an attack. Luckily the road was level and free from all obstructions. As the stage was empty and the long-eared animals were inclined to run, and Bob knew it was death to remain near that spot, there was no other alternative than to let the mules have their own way. There was a run and a fight, and for a few minutes it was lively. Armed with an improved rifle and a revolver and plenty of ammunition, Ridley made it as hot as he could for his dusky assailants. In their lively chase for his scalp, it is related that hewounded ten or a dozen of his pursuers and three of them were killed outright. In the engagement several of the Indian ponies were killed or severely crippled. The fight had not progressed long until Ridley found that, even single-handed, he was getting the best of it. His mules could outrun the ponies, for Holladay wouldn't have any stock on the stage line that couldn't get away from Indian ponies. Frequently, when speaking of the fight afterwards, Bob alluded to it as a "picnic." In describing it, "the Indians," he said, "came up behind and took after him; but as the mules were among the best that ever hauled a stage-coach, they easily outran the scrub ponies the Indians were riding." There was a large band of savages to shoot among when hostilities began, and it was not difficult to bring down a "scalp lifter" or a pony almost every shot. Soon the Indians, seeing their numbers were being thinned, became timid, and many dropped back and scattered, but a few of those more brave kept in range for five or six |
JOHN E. SMITH'S HOTEL, SENECA, KAN. Photo. in the early '70's. miles. The mules played an important part in the chase.
They kept the road all right, seemingly being possessed of
natural instinct, instead of becoming panic-stricken (as
they often do under such excitement) and leaving the road.
Ridley soon found that the mules were perfectly safe and,
tying the lines around his body, he let them go, and gave
his whole attention to the fight, and won a glorious
victory. So well pleased was Ben. Holladay, his employer,
that Ridley had saved his coach and team, that he gave him a
handsome gold watch for the part he had so successfully
played. |
GUITTARD'S STATION. West view. The stage station of Seneca was kept by
that enterprising shrewd New Hampshire Yankee, John E.
Smith. Mr. Smith was one of the pioneers of his town and
county in staging days, and was probably more widely and
better known throughout northern Kansas than any other
landlord. His hotel, built of lumber hauled from the
Missouri river, was the first building put up on the town
site. It is no exaggeration to say that he has entertained
more public men crossing the plains by the overland stage
than any other living person, Although years ago he gave up
the hotel and retired to his farm adjoining the city, and
some years ago passed his three score and ten, he is still a
vigorous and remarkably well-preserved man. He is likewise
the last one now left of the overland stage men in his town.
His was a two-story hotel, one of the finest between
Atchison and Denver. He was also well prepared to care for
horses and mules, for in the rear was a commodious barn, one
of the best between the Missouri and the mountains on the
overland route. Barn at Guittard's station.
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white, and everything about the premises was kept in the best order. His wife was a model landlady, and no one ever stopped there and partook of a meal without hoping he might some day come again. Among those entertained in the early days by Mr. Smith were Generals Lane and Pomeroy, pioneers and the first United States senators from Kansas, scores of army officials, every judge and nearly every lawyer throughout northern Kansas. Ben. Holladay, the owner of the great stage line, several times partook of the necessaries there in the early '60's; Albert D. Richardson, the noted Tribune war correspondent had often dined there; Col. Thomas W. Knox. the well-known author, who had gone around the world for the New York Herald, had been a guest there; "Mark Twain," author of "Innocents Abroad" and "Roughing it"; Gen. P. E. Connor, who commanded the United States forces at Salt Lake; Richard J. Hinton, author of "John Brown and his Men"; Bayard Taylor, the famous traveler and writer, Colonel Chivington, the hero of Sand Creek; Hon. Schuyler Colfax; Bishop E. S. Janes, of the Methodist Episcopal church; Fargo, Cheney, and Barney, the noted express men; Jim Bridger, the famous trapper, scout, and guide; Russell, Majors, and Waddell, the noted transportation firm; Dave Butterfield, the "Overland Despatch" man; "Artemus Ward," the renowned humorist; scores of army and navy officials; foreign diplomats from China and Japan; the senators and representatives of California and Oregon; the delegates to Congress from the territories of the great West; nearly all the prominent Mormon leaders of Utah; and hundreds of other notables from all parts of the country. One of the best compliments ever paid to the house was by Hon, John J. Ingalls, who often stopped there when his business called him to Seneca to attend court, while practicing at the bar, in the '60's and early '70's. He said: "Mrs. Smith kept the kitchen floor of her house clean enough to eat off it." Beyond Seneca, a distance of twelve miles--seventy-two miles out from Atchison--Laramie Creek is reached. The station, however, was better known among the" Overland" boys as" Frogtown." The stage officials made that a "home" station; i. e., the drivers drove through from Log Chain, the distance being twenty-three miles. The next stop was at Guittard's, quite a prominent station, twelve miles farther. The senior, Mr. George |
Guittard, had quite a large family. He was by birth a Frenchman, and one of the pioneers of that part of Marshall county, having settled there with his sons in the spring of 1857. *JOHN H. CLARK, who left Cincinnati and crossed the plains to California in 1852, had a remarkable trip. He made the long overland journey with oxen, being five months on the road. Before starting out he resolved never to travel on Sunday unless it became actually necessary to get water and grass for his stock. The Lord's day he considered holy, and, with his men and stock, all on that day rested. Thousands of men on the plains more eager and anxious to be among the first to get through to the gold diggings, often traveled hours at night and all day Sunday, the same as any other day. Some of them rushed ahead with all their might, and with their outfits passed Mr. Clark when only a few miles west of the Big Blue river at Marysville. The trip was very slow and tedious, but Mr. Clark with his company kept steadily pushing forward six days in the week. While going through Nevada, long before he entered the eastern border of California, he passed the same men who, months before, had passed him when only a few days or weeks out from the Missouri river. Their stock, what few head were yet alive, was terribly run down--little left but skin and bone--and the entire parties generally used up and demoralized. All appeared to be worn out from exhaustion. Neither man nor beast had had any rest except what they got at the end of a long day's journey at night. Mr. Clark spent nearly two weeks resting himself and party and recuperating his stock at Salt Lake, reaching Sacramento without losing an animal or a man, his stock apparently being as fresh and in about as good condition on arriving at their destination as they were the day he crossed the "Big Muddy" at St. Joseph and started out on the trip, nearly five months before. |
Guittard's was also one of the best known stopping-places between the Missouri river and the Rocky Mountains, according to the opinion of freighters and stage men. All of the Guittard family were greatly respected, and few persons partook of meals there in the early '60's without feeling that they were being entertained on a well-managed Western farm or ranch. One of the boys was named Xavier; he could speak English fluently and was the business man of the premises. He was also postmaster at Guittard's Station, having been appointed under Lincoln's first administration, in 1861. He still holds the office, and is probably the oldest Nasby in Kansas, having held the place for over forty years. When the daily stage line was started, the route was from Guittard's west via Marysville, where it crossed the Big Blue river by means of a rope ferry. In dry weather, when the river was low, the stages forded it. Marysville then was one of the oldest and most widely known towns in northern Kansas. Located on the frontier, about 100 miles a little north of west from Atchison, it was laid out by Gen. Frank J. Marshall in the spring of 1854. Marshall came from the South at an early day and established the first ferry on the Big Blue river in 1849, some five years before Kansas was thrown open to settlement. It was started to catch the immense overland travel to the California gold-mines, following the excitement on account of the discoveries of 1848. In 1851, after it had been operated some two years, the ferry was moved up the stream a short distance to the present site of the city of Marysville, the town laid out and named for his wife, as the county of Marshall is named for himself. The old ferry was used until the river was spanned by a bridge. Way back in the spring of 1852, eight years before the establishment of the first daily central overland mail route, it is learned from the late John H. Clark, of Clay County, Kansas, who crossed there at the time on his way overland to California, "there was located on the east bank of the Big Blue, at Marshall's, a private post-office, a hotel, and a ferry--the business all under one roof. Kansas then was a part of Nebraska Territory. Letters written by parties on their way to California could be mailed there for the States, the price being one dollar for each letter. If there was any one in the crowd fond of an 'eye-opener,' he could get one for the modest sum of seventy-five |
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