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DOCTOR FRANCIS C. GRIMMEL
 ONE of the very early settlers here who made their impress upon the city, and for sixteen years was one of the foremost, energetic, respected citizens, was Doctor F. C. Grimmel.
In August, 1846, in Ohio, he gathered together his family, consisting of his wife, three sons and two daughters, and, with four wagons loaded with household goods and a small lot of drugs, drawn by ten horses, he set out for Fort Des Moines. He arrived here late at night, October Fifteenth, having to ford the river between Grand Avenue and Walnut Street,there being no bridges. There was not a place for them to unload, and they camped out, as they had every night of the trip.
The next morning, the only vacant or available place to be had was the large, oblong, log Guard House used by the soldiers, which stood near the present northeast corner of Third and Vine streets, and fronted on the Parade Ground, the north line of which was Vine Street, east line Fourth Street, west line Sixth street, south, 'Coon River.
The house was divided into two compartments about fourteen feet square, with small iron-barred windows. The chinking between the logs had broken away, and, to make it more endurable, the wagon covers were fastened to the walls. The Winter was severe. In contradistinction from the "old-fashioned" Winters talked of nowadays, that was a typical one. The mercury fell to thirty-six below zero, many cattle and hogs froze to death; the earth was frozen so hard, to dig a grave for a burial of a person, logs and wood had to burned to thaw it so as to render it penetrable with a spade. Provisions were scarce, and there was much suffering throughout the country. The Doctor's family got out of meat. Doctor Brooks came over one day to make a friendly visit with the new comers, discovered the paucity of their larder, and, with his proverbial goodness, at evening brought a quarter of beef. There was no place
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inside to put it. There were seven persons and a drug store in two small rooms. Ice boxes and refrigerators had not materialized; there was no cellar. It was hung on the outside wall, where it was cut from daily as wanted, an exposure that would hardly be wise in these days of higher civilization. But they didn't have locks on their doors on those days. The pioneers were all friends and neighbors; their doors and hearts were open always; they shared with each other whatever they had. A common interest and common sympathy bound them together. It was in the very nature of things that each person's protection was in the good-will of the community about him.
Reverting to those days, said one of the old-timers, who passed through trials and privations of which those of the middle age to-day can have no conception whatever:
"We were all on an equality. Caste would not have been tolerated. What one had, we all had. It was the happiest period of my life. But to-day, if you lean against your neighbor's shade tree, he'll charge you for it. If you are poor and sick, you may lie and suffer unnoticed, uncared for, and probably go to the Poor House, and the man who reported you will charge the county for doing it."
The first Winter was passed in the Guard House. The first move in the Spring was to get out of it. The Doctor purchased the Government warehouse, which was on the East Side, a story-and-a-half structure of two-inch walnut plank; tore it down, removed it to near where the Sisters of Mercy now reside on Sixth Avenue, rebuilt it, and lived in it during the Summer while he was building a permanent residence. One portion of it was used for a stock of drugs and his office until 1852, when he built a frame store at the corner of Sixth and Grand avenues, which he occupied several years, when the lot was sold to the Catholics and the store removed to Mulberry Street. In it Rev. Ezra Rathbun lived and died.
In the Spring of 1847, the Doctor made a claim of eight acres lying between what is now Grand Avenue and School, Fourth and Ninth streets.
So soon as the Doctor had made his claim, he selected the site for a residence "away out on the hill," as they said at the post office, down near "The Point," when anybody inquired for the Doctor professionally.
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The timbers for sills, joist and rafters were cut and hewn on the claim between Park and School streets. The weatherboards were sawed at Parmalee's mill, near the mouth of Middle River, in Warren County. The shingles and lath were made by hand. The frame was the regular down-east mill style, with mortise, tenon, braces and pinned jointures. When put together, the carpenters declared it could be rolled all over town. The top plate was sycamore, the corner posts oak. One night, after the frame was up, lightning struck one upper corner, passed down the oak post, slivering it and the tenon, without injuring the tenon mortise in the sycamore plate.
It was late in the Fall, help being scarce, before the house was ready for plastering, but there was no lime nor plasterer. Cloth was fastened to the walls and ceilings, and another Winter passed in discomfort. In June following, the Doctor's daughter, Augusta, and P. M. Casady (now known as the "Judge") were married therein. It was a notable, jolly affair. The groom was popular, a lawyer, and candidate for State Senator. The groomsman was Doctor Fagen, who, for two years, had been a roommate and chum of the groom, and who was the Whig candidate against the groom. For the fun of it, a vote for Senator was taken by the whole crown and the Doctor beat the groom by a large majority, every blessed one of the girls voting against him——they didn't like the breaking up of their social circles by marriages——but their vote was soon after verified by the marriage of the Doctor to the bridesmaid, Melissa Hoxie.
The second Fall, the house was completed, a plasterer having come to the town, and it became famous afterward for weddings and social gatherings. It was a cherished place for young people. In it, in 1855, was held the meeting for organizing the first Lutheran Church, the Doctor and his good wife being earnest, active Lutherans. It was the first complete timber frame house built in the town.
In Summer time, the pet family horse, who grazed in the large field about the house, could be seen with head and neck thrust in an open window to receive the benefactions so proverbial within. the house was destroyed by fire in 1889, the lot then sold, the hill cut away, and the Catholic Church built thereon.
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Simultaneously with the making of the claim by the Doctor, Edwin and Edward Hall, twin brothers, who built the dam at the foot of Center Street, made a claim westward from the river along Center Street. In 1854, when the claims were made additions to the city, in locating the streets it was discovered the claims overlapped. To avoid expensive litigation, for land was cheap, the claims being covered with timber and tangled underbrush, and prospective purchasers scarce, a compromise was made, which explains the jog the length of one lot in Fourth Street at Center.
In 1855, at a meeting of the State Lutheran Convention here, it was decided to establish a college of the Church. Through the earnest effort and influence of the Doctor and his estimable wife, Des Moines was selected for its location. A corporation was formed, a site purchased on Pleasant Street, where Younker's residence now is; the Doctor gave ten thousand dollars to the project; he was elected one of the trustees; a building was commenced, the corner-stone laid May Twenty-sixth, 1856, when hard times came on, material difficult to obtain the project was abandoned,a nd the property sold to the Baptist denomination.
In the State House location fiasco, 1855, the Doctor was an enthusiastic West Sider, subscribing ten thousand dollars to the "war fund." He offered ten acres of his claim, and Richard Holcomb, who had a claim adjoining that of Grimmel's on the west, and lived in a log cabin on the hillside, near where Irving School is offered ten acres also, or more, if wanted, for a building site, and ten thousand dollars to the "war fund."
In 1855, Grimmel retired from active business, and for recreation, the following year, built a large two-story brick residence, corner of Park Street and Sixth Avenue, where he lived until his death in 1862. In 1865, the property was sold to General J. M. Tuttle, and the Doctor's widow returned to the old house.
After General Tuttle's death, the brick house was torn away, the lot excavated,a nd the Victoria Hotel built thereon.
Politically, the Doctor was a radical Democrat. He was skillful and successful in his profession, zealous in the promotion of religious, educational and civic affairs, liberal in all matters of charity, his controlling effort being to help the city.
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Contemporary with the Doctor was Doctor Pierce B. Fagen, an excellent physician, a graduate of several medical schools. He arrived here in June, 1846, the second doctor in the town, Doctor Brooks having preceded him. With him came Judge Casady. The night before, they stopped at the cabin of "Uncle Tommy" Mitchell, well known to everybody in Polk County for fifty years——in fact, the godfather of the county——who lived near where Mitchellville now is.
A young boy of Mitchell's was bitten by a rattlesnake the day Doctor Fagen arrived there. It was a godsend for the boy. There was no drug store at hand, not a neighbor's cabin within several miles. The only possible antidote for the poison to be had was tobacco and whiskey, usually kept in a settler's cabin, though "Uncle Tommy" was a good cold-water man. The boy was loaded with tobacco and whiskey, and recovered, which helped the Doctor more than all the "puffs" in Barlow Granger's Star. He opened an office with Mr. Casady and at once got into public favor.
He was a wide-awake Whig, and in 1848, when Casady was a candidate for State Senator, he was the Whig candidate and took the stump against him. They roomed, ate and slept together, "boarding 'round," first at the tavern of Martin (X) Tucker——Martin wrote the "X" and somebody else the rest——then the Martin House and so on. They were firm chums, Casady won out, though the Doctor received a large vote in Polk County. His friends charged the Democrats with working the sympathy racket, by telling the people that it was more important to the health of the community that the Doctor be kept at home during the Winter. A lawyer could easily be spared, not so a good doctor. But when the county-seat location contest came on in the Legislature, during the Winter, the Doctor and "Uncle Tommy" Mitchell started one very cold morning in February, on horseback, to go to Iowa City to lobby the Fort. The reached Bennett's cabin, four miles east of Newton, the first night, nearly frozen, and hungry as bears. Corn bread, sour bacon, a corn-shuck bed short at both ends, was the best the cabin afforded. It required pluck and public spirit, but they went on, and helped materially in securing favorable legislation.
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The first deed executed in the county by an individual was by Fagen. It was for forty acres lying within the plat set apart by the County Commissioners as the Original Town, and was part of a claim made by the Doctor. The deed was to convey title to the Commissioners. The price paid was three hundred and five dollars, or about seven dollars and a half per acre. It is now in the heart of the city, as the original town lay between Des Moines River and Eighth Street west, 'Coon River and Locust Street north. A big town it was perspectively.
In November, 1849, the Doctor and Melissa Hoxie, the bridesmaid at the Casady wedding, were married in the Hoxie house. It was a notable event. Guests came from all over the county; "Uncle Tommy" Mitchell from Apple Grove, Doctor Brooks from Indian Agency, Charley Van from Vantown, the latter coming with an ox team.
While the wedding ceremony was on, a terrific storm came, compelling the guests to remain through the night——some for several days. The house was packed. It was an unique affair, replete with all the jollity Charley Van could concoct to "kill time."
As transportation facilities at that time were sadly wanting, Colonel Hooker's stage coaches not having reached this point, and steamboats being barred by the two half-completed dams of the River "Obstruction" Company at Bonaparte, there was no bridal tour.
The Hoxie house was a prominent landmark for many years. It was built in 1848, of hewn logs, clap-boarded, a lean-to, and outside brick chimney. It stood on the Hoxie claim, fenced in by rails, near the present southwest corner of Twelfth and Walnut streets, but askew to the street, and, with the Grimmel house on "the hill," a small one near the corner of Vine and Third streets, where Cownie's Glove Factory is, were the only buildings visible in that territory. It subsequently was sold to Samuel Keene, and became the headquarters for social functions, Mrs. Keene, being a great favorite with the young people, memories of which were recalled by Hoyt Sherman, "Dan" Finch, Judge Casady, "Ed" Clapp, and other old-timers for years after. In 1879, deserted, dilapidated, unsightly, and awry with the street, it was torn down.
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The rails composing the stake-and-ridered fence around the claim were cut and placed by good "Uncle Jimmy" Jordan, the grand old-timer, father of the wife of Doctor Hanawalt.
When "Missouri Bill" headed this way with his bushwhackers, during the Civil War, to loot the Capital, the banks of the city removed their money and valuables to "Uncle Jimmy's" farm, near present Valley Junction, and cachéd them for safety. But "Bill" ran up against some "blue-coats" and didn't get here, much to the regret of Captain Harry Griffith, who was prepared to give him a salutation from sever six-pounders.
In 1850, Fagen was the Whig candidate for County Supervisor for Des Moines Township, but as it was against the divine rights of the Democrats, he was defeated, though he beat the Democratic vote in the township. Soon after the election, he had an acute attack of California gold fever, which "carried him off," and the town and county lost a helpful, active, earnest supporter of all that was good.
July Twelfth, 1904.
FOURTH OF JULY IN EARLY DAYS
THE pioneers were patriotic as well as public-spirited and industrious. The first Fourth of July celebration of the town was in 1846, less than four months after the town had a legal existence. The soldiers had left, taking away all the cannon, but cannon improvised from logs, and blacksmiths' anvils,were utilized to make a noise, while the small boy echoed it by charging old smooth-bored, muzzle-loading muskets with bullets picked from cabin logs which had been "peppered" by the soldiers in some of their hilarious moments. There were no cartridges and breech-loaders in that day.
Early in the day, a procession was formed of about two hundred persons——nearly the entire population——which marched to a small grove not farm from where the Observatory Building now is. Colonel Tom Baker, the first Prosecuting Attorney of the county, an active Democratic politician and prominent functionary, delivered a fine oration, and William McKay, afterward Judge of the District Court, read the Declaration of Independence. A big banquet was spread, at one dollar a couple. Toasts, repartee, and cheers were abundant, the event winding up with a dance on the lawn in the evening, by the light of the silvery moon. It was a joyful occasion.
A. D. Jones, who surveyed and laid out the town only one month before, subsequently wrote of the affair, that four weeks later he took a census of the entire population, and among those present, were "eleven young ladies and thirteen young gentlemen who were proper subjects for matrimony, and an old maid by the name of Jemima Scott."
As the census of a month later showed less than three hundred, with a big sprinkling of babies, the presumption is that the celebration was an old-fashioned jollification.
In 1847, the day was celebrated in the well-known Saylor Settlement, near where Saylorville now is. It was largely attended by
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settlers of the county. There was a big dinner, impromptu speeches, and a general jollification. John Saylor, on whose claim the festivities were held, came here in 1845. There was nobody between him and British Columbia, except the Red Man. In the rear of his cabin was a beautiful natural grove. He had a permit to furnish hay for the garrison, and embraced the opportunity to develop a farm. Mrs. Saylor was a pioneer of true womanly virtues, and endured privations and trial which would overcome most of the sex to-day. When in a reminiscent mood, she would tell of times when the larder was empty and the family went to bed at night hungry; that for six weeks at at time she was alone, while her husband was away on business, with wolves so bold and plentiful they chased the house dogs to the doors, and would climb up and peer into the windows; that for better sauce, wild crab apples were roasted; that roasted acorns sometimes had to satisfy craving hunger; that honey gathered from the bee trees were the only substitute for sugar available; that once a lot of Indians came and demanded meat. A big club in the hands of her husband cleared them out.
In 1848, extensive preparation was made for a celebration in the grove on George Beebe's farm, up in Madison Township. It was managed on the coöperative plan, by contributions from the old settlers all over the county. The principal manager was Mrs. Beebe, who was a master at such functions, and very popular. She was a good cook, lived in a log cabin, and didn't have many desirable accessories to culinary art. Sometimes the flour, ground in the very uncertain mills, would not be bolted. She fitted an old veil to a dry-goods box, in which to bolt the flour, by shaking it. The feature of this celebration was the dinner, for which the good dames spent a week in preparation. It was said one person dug a sack of potatoes and carried them three miles on his back to add to the menu. At one cabin, salt was solicited. The reply was: "Oh, no! We have no salt!" But it was a splendid affair, and hugely enjoyed. It afforded opportunity to give play to an exuberance of spirit long pent up by their isolation, for cabins two and three miles apart were considered quite neighborly. William H. McHenry, afterward Judge of the District Court, delivered an oration. The day was passed in recreations and mutual exchange of incidents in their pioneer days. There were no fireworks.
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In 1851, the steamboat Caleb Cope, having run the obstructions of the River Improvement Company, happened to be in port in Des Moines, having brought up from St. Louis a big load of flour and other food supplies. The people were in a patriotic mood, for nothing is more conductive to good humor than a well-loaded stomach. The Cope was chartered for an excursion up the river. The Star of that date says:
"The Des Moines Band was there, and the light fantastic toe brought into requisition. Our city belles and beaux understand that performance well——in fact, are hard to beat."
The presence of the "Des Moines Band" on that occasion should be accepted in a Pickwickian sense, the instrumental music at The Fort then being two or three fiddles.
While I think of it, the fiddle was a prominent factor in many ways in those days, and some notable pioneers were very good fiddlers. "Old Joe" Williams, as he was called by the lawyers, who started in as Territorial Judge in the lower part of the territory, and moved north and west as counties were organized, until Polk County was added to his district. He was somewhat eccentric, but opposite to Judge McFarland, for he was a radical prohibitionist, and made special effort wherever he went to get the lawyers to sign the temperance pledge. He was an excellent lawyer and judge. He was also a good musician, played several instruments, but the fiddle was his favorite. At places where he held court, he would join the lawyers in social gatherings and entertain them with songs and his fiddle.
He was once a candidate for Supreme Judge, with S. C. Hastings as his opponent. At the same time, George W. Jones and Thomas Wilson were candidates for United States Senator. At the nominating caucus the Judge and Jones won out. The defeated fellows were deeply chagrined. Said Wilson to his friends: "If I had been beaten by a high-minded, honorable man, I could have stood it without a murmur, but to be defeated by a dancing-master will ruin my reputation forever."
Hastings retorted with: "Wilson, you were defeated by a high-minded, honorable gentleman——a dancing-master. I congratulate you. For me there is no consolation; a d——d fiddler beat me."
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The allusion of Wilson to the "dancing-master" will be appreciated by old-timers, who knew George W. Jones when in his best, Chesterfieldian days.
As a rule, the National Holiday was fittingly recognized by the pioneers, according to their environments, usually be neighborhood gatherings, with little martial spirit. The sky-rocket, cannon cracker and toy pistol had not arrived. The enjoyment was more satisfactory than the general experience at the present time.
Des Moines has never given much concerted recognition of the day as a body politic. It is usually observed scatteringly by societies and families, in picnics and social functions.
In 1876, was one of the most elaborate displays ever held in the city. It was estimated that not less than twenty-five thousand persons were in attendance. Governor Kirkwood was President of the Day, Rev. A. L. Frisbie Chaplain, Doctor E. R. Hutchins and B. F. Montgomery of Council Bluffs the orators. The speakers' stand was at the old Fair Grounds near 'Coon River, on lower Ninth Street. There was booming of cannon, bands of music galore, elaborate street decoration, a big procession, and exuberant enthusiasm everywhere. The day was to wind up with a splendid display of fireworks on the east bank of the Des Moines River, above the dam. The entire population had gathered on the West Side bluff to witness it. The day had been hot and sultry, several persons succumbing to the heat. Just at the opening of the fireworks, with scarce a moment's warning, there was a cloudburst of water, and for twenty minutes it seemed as if the very bottom of the firmament had dropped out. There was no wind, no lightning, no thunder——nothing but a sudden swash. There were no sewers, and few streets paved. Bird's Run, an open ravine, was the natural drain for all the north and northwest part of the city, and it quickly became a very demon. For fifty feet in width it swept everything in its way. Every wooden bridge over all street crossings from Eleventh to the river was carried off; at Fourth Street and Grand Avenue, it tore away nearly a whole building lot. The sudden drenching of the people put a damper on the closing scene of what was a notable celebration.
June Twenty-sixth, 1904.
COLONEL J. M. GRIFFITH
 COLONEL J. M. GRIFFITH, who was an important factor in developing the East Side, came from the East in the Fall of 1850, and, after looking over the field, concluded to invest. He rented a store on Second Street, paid one hundred dollars for rent in advance, to secure what he wanted, went away, returned the next Spring, took possession of the store, and began a general merchandise business. He evinced his characteristic public spirit by laying a sidewalk in front of the store lot, the first laid in the city.
The town was rapidly becoming a trading-point. Settlers from Boone and surrounding counties came here to get supplies and dispose of their products. To the merchant, transportation was an important matter. It was then both difficult and uncertain. The Colonel, with an eye to business, and to secure regularity and permanency, chartered a steamboat in 1851 for regular service between The Fort and points down the river. At Bonaparte, where the alleged River Improvement Company had obstructed navigation with abandoned, half-completed dams and debris, freight would be transferred around the break. When the river was high, the boat could go through to St. Louis with out transfer. It was an enterprise of great benefit to the entire country. It also enabled the merchant to widen the scope of his traffic, to put him more in contact with the farmer, to get his produce in exchange for store goods——in fact, barter was the principal method of trading, for money was scarce. It there fore required some time for the merchant to convert his goods into cash, because of the want of convenient and adequate transportation facilities. Sometimes he could hasten the exchange by investing in hogs and sending them to market on foot, as they were in demand down the river. An incident of that kind is related where a merchant, with trade dull, a store full of goods, thought he would stir things up a bit by taking a whirl with hogs. He bought every hog in the country
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that could travel, giving his note on short time for them. He hired a lot of men and boys to drive them to Keokuk, going himself, leaving his store in charge of clerks.
Arriving at Keokuk, the market was flat. He chartered a steamboat for St. Louis, put the hogs on it, dismissed some of the drivers, and started down the river. When the drivers returned, there was inquiry as to the merchant and the hogs. All they could say was that the last they saw of them they were headed down-stream. The second lot of drivers could give no better satisfaction. The note-holders got uneasy and suspicious that the man had "skipped." They soon began to turn the notes in at the store in exchange for goods. This quickly increased to a panic. They took everything that was wanted, and some that was not, until the entire store was cleaned out. A large portion of the goods were out of style and unsaleable. Just at that juncture, the merchant turned up, with a big, new stock of goods, and pockets bulging with dollars. He was astounded by the situation of his affairs, threatened to sue everybody in the community for libel and defamation of character, while he quietly laughed "up his sleeve." He went right on with his business, buying hogs and selling "rags." It was not long before the farmers declared, with a wink, that it was "just a trick of the trade," but they made no more "runs" on his store.
Soon after his arrival, the Colonel began to invest in real estate, purchasing a tract on the East Side and platting it into lots. In 1855, he, with his brother, Harry, built a three-story brick store and office building at the corner of Locust and Fourth Streets. Subsequently, it was remodeled to the Jones Hotel, and is now the Lakota.
W. A. Scott, the two Lyons, John H. Deakin, and others also purchased tracts and platted them, and proceeded vigorously to build up a rival to The Fort. They were hustlers, and boomed the project, with great surprise to the West Siders. They named the aggregation "East Demoin," Deakin being sponsor for the orthography. He declared he didn't care what the "literary fellers" over at The Fort said, he would have it as he wanted, and so it stands yet on the records.
Later on, Judge Napier, to help them along, by virtue of authority vested in a County Judge, set off the whole of Des
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Moines Township east of the river, "to be known and hailed as Lee Township."
In 1856, when the question of location of a site for a State House came on, the East Siders were ready for the fray. The Commissioners sent by the Legislature to fix the place were authorized to accept land, or anything else, to aid in building a Capitol, or get a place to put it. The East Siders formed the "Capitol Stock Association," got Eastern men who were making real estate investments here interested in it; Grimes, who was a candidate for Governor, was said to be in it, gave it his influence (not improbable, as the site must be approved by the Governor) a fact the West Siders afterward declared necessitated the proffer of extraordinary inducments to the gubernatorial candidate. Two hundred and fifty lots were put into the pool, and what else was never made known. The West Siders subscribed a fund of $159,250 and ten or twenty acres of land, if the site was fixed on the West Side.
As the site must be within two miles of the fork of the Des Moines and Raccoon rivers, there were others. Doctor T. K. Brooks and "Uncle Jerry" Church had a magnificent City of Brooklyn——on paper——on the beautiful plateau down where the packing-houses are, which they put into the contest.
The Commissioners came, in all the glory of dignified importance, and "put up" at the "Demoine House,"corner of First and Walnut streets, kept by Colonel Spofford. They investigated several days with great taciturnity and solemnity. They tramped over the West Side, East Side and Brooklyn. The air was full of plots and schemes. There were wheels within wheels. Neither side could find out what the other was doing. Excitement was intense. The East Siders declared the West Siders' subscription was not worth the paper it was written on; the West Siders retaliated with equal invectives. It was a bitter contest. Finally, the Commissioners fixed a day when they would meet with all parties. The West Siders put in an appearance. Brooklyn had withdrawn and joined the East Siders. The West Siders were quietly informed that the question had been settled the night previous. The East Side had offered forty acres, and agreed to build a State House, and the offer had been accepted. The West Siders were wild with rage. They
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condemned the Commissioners, and charged the East Siders with all manner of fraud.
The East Siders being all Whigs, and the West Siders mostly Democrats, the latter declared it was a political trick to help Grimes. They went to the Legislature and demanded an investigation of the whole transaction, which was granted, but when instituted, the witnesses were affected with remarkable "forgettery," or declined to tell what they knew for fear of defamation of character. One of them, however, when asked why the Commissioners slept at the "Demoine House" and did the eating and drinking on the East Side, replied that the East Siders were more courteous and hospitable than the West Siders. Another one said there was a lot of money and heaps of Anaiasan and Sapphiran appliances used, but he did not know who got the money.
The Commissioners, for themselves, had no personal knowledge of any unlawful or improper methods used to influence their action.
It developed, however, that a man named Baldwin was an intermediary between the Commissioners and East Siders. He financed the whole business, did all the buying, selling and dividing of swag, if there was any. He denied the right of the Legislature to interfere with his real estate business. As it was said he had stated vociferously on his first appearance here that "fifty thousand dollars would locate the Capitol," the West Siders declared somebody got the money.
In the deal, the State got a mighty good thing, but some of the East Siders lost a pile of money.
Knowing the Colonel was an East Side booster at that time, I asked him a few days ago how many lots he put into the State House pool. He laughingly replied: "Not a lot, but I lost a hundred dollars in the deal. One of the Commissioners sent here came to me and said he wanted a hundred dollars. I gave him the money, and that's the last I saw of it. He probably forgot it, and I presume the administrator of his estate never knew anything about it."
In 1855, there were but few houses on the East Side. The frequent submerging of it by floods was not encouraging for residence building, but the Colonel and his coadjutors had faith in the prospective. The building fever broke out that year on both sides of
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the river, and great improvement was made. The Colonel built a fine residence at the corner of East Sixth and Walnut streets, where he lived many years. It was a favorite place for dinners, receptions and social gatherings of the Allens, Shermans, Mills, Robertsons, Williamsons, Hulls, and many others long gone to their final rest. I think "Tom" Hatton, "Friday" Eason, Mrs. Bina M. Wyman, and Mrs. Ed. Clapp have not forgotten some of them.
The Colonel, being largely interested in real estate and building, crossed the river and built the first store at the northwest corner of Court Avenue and Second Street. It was a one-story frame.
About that time, he was called to serve as juryman in court before Judge McFarland, who happened to be quite sober. J. E. Jewett was one of the lawyers in the case. He was making his argument, and with great emphasis endeavoring to impress the court with the importance and weight of it, when he discovered the Judge was apparently sound asleep. He stopped speaking and stood looking at the Judge, when he opened his eyes with: "Go on, Jewett; G——d d——n ye, go on!"
On another occasion, when the weather was hot and sultry, "Dan" Finch was one of the lawyers in the case, and, as all old-timers well know, had a voluminous, incisive vocabulary at his command. The case dragged along without material interest, and the Judge fell asleep. "Dan" and his opposing lawyer got into a heated wrangle over a point in the case, and were making fierce and loud charges against each other, which awoke the Judge, when he roared, "Stop that, or I'll lick the ——l out of both of you."
In September, 1862, when the Thirty-ninth Iowa Infantry regiment was organized, the Colonel was commissioned its Major. The enlistments were nearly all from Polk County. In October, it was mustered into the United States Army at Davenport. Soon after, nearly half of it was sent to the hospital with the measles, and, before complete recovery, was ordered to report to Cairo. It disembarked at Columbus, spending the first night without tents, in mud and rain. October Eighteenth, it moved by rail to Corinth, where it had severe marches and several skirmishes with Forrest's forces.
On the Thirty-first, a bloody fight for six hours was had at Parker's at Parker's Cross Roads. For two hours those raw soldiers withstood an d repulsed the whole of Forrest's army of seven thousand, when,
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by a mistaken order, it was thrown into confusion and retired, but soon re-formed and rested that night on the field they won. The Colonel was severely wounded.
In January, 1863, it was sent to Corinth, assigned to the Second Brigade until November, when it joined Sherman in his march to the sea. At the battle of Altoona, it stood at the front like a stone wall and won imperishable fame. In October, the Major was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel, May Twelfth, 1865, to Colonel, and mustered out at the close of the war as Colonel. Soon after, he was appointed Government Inspector at the Custom House in New Orleans,where he remained four years, and resigned, his physical system having been completely shattered with yellow fever.
Returning to Des Moines, he gradually closed his several business interests, and now, with his estimable wife, in satisfactory consciousness of having done what he could for the city of his adoption, is quietly waiting the final summons which comes to all men.
Recalling the military services of the Colonel brings to mind an incident, somewhat peculiar, occurring here after the war closed.
Very soon after the close of the Rebellion, a man and his wife came to Des Moines, started in business, and became quite prominent and successful. Little was known of his antecedents, of which he said nothing. His rank and social position were apparently satisfactory, and only those most familiar with him noticed his reticence. He was a familiar personage on the streets. A few years ago he died. His widow left the city soon after. Several months later, I received a letter enclosing a photograph, inquiring if a man of a certain name, of whom the photo was a likeness, had lived in the city, and deceased on or about a certain date. I replied that the photo was true to a man who had lived and deceased here, but under another name. Naturally, I desired to get the sequel as to the matter. It was that, soon after the decease of the man, the widow made application for a pension, based on military service during the Civil War. Investigation of the records at Washington disclosed an application on file from another woman, based on the same identical service. Later, another application was filed by a woman holding a marriage certificate ante-dating those of the other two applicants, and whom the man had deserted, leaving her with
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several children, one of whom is now an officer in the United States Army. It was for the benefit of this woman the inquiry I refer to was made, and she has probably received the pension, but not in the name the man who lived and died here was known by.
July Twenty-fourth, 1904.
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