Fancy Hill promise & a favorite map

Please excuse what's turning into a two-day gap between Tuesday's post about Union Township's Argo and the planned follow-up post about the Fancy Hill Hotel, located at Argo. But I had no idea earlier in the week that Bev (Collins) Snook grew up in the beautiful old farm house (now gone) that was built early in the 20th century just in front of Fancy Hill. So I needed to wait for more information and do a little more scratching around.

I'm thinking I'll come back to Fancy Hill tomorrow.

But I wanted to take a look this morning at a favorite map, the 1855 Mendenhall "Map of Iowa, Exhibiting Townships, Cities, Villages, Post Offices, Railroads, Common Roads & other Improvements."

You can download this map from the Library of Congress, but be warned that if you want to manipulate it --- pull out detail of specific counties, for example --- you're going to need to select the massive TIFF file, then sit for a while as it makes its way through cyberspace to your computer and finally change it to JPEG yourself. The JPEG version available to download is too small.

Ignore the straight black line that passes through Chariton, Osceola, Pisgah and other southern Iowa towns on this map --- that's the projected route of the Burlington & Missouri River Railroad, stalled by the Civil War at Ottumwa and not built westward until 1866-1868.

But you can follow the "common" roads then in use --- and see why the folks living near Argo and Fancy Hill were optimistic about their location in the 1850s. They were living astraddle the gateway to southwest Iowa --- then largely unsettled --- and, eventually, St. Joseph, Missouri --- launching pad for countless journeys west across the Great Plains.

The Mormon Trail entered Lucas County near Greenville Post Office, followed the great ridge dividing Missouri and Mississippi river drainages northwest to Chariton, then swung south along the same ridge through Argo before passing into Clarke County just east of the short-lived post office called Glenn's. Argo's neighboring post office --- Freeland, a Plymate family enterprise --- was just up the trail northeast of Argo, about where the trail crosses the Warren-Whitebreast township line, but was not noted on this map.

Near Glenn's, the old trail split --- one branch heading south to Garden Grove; the other on west through Bartlettville to White Breast. There, the old trail headed northwest to Pisgah while a newer branch headed on to Hopeville, where the utopian Hopewell/Hopeville colony had been founded, before swinging up to Pisgah, established in 1846 as a Mormon way station and still flourishing.

During the 1860s, the Last Chance settlement and post office came into being nearer the Lucas-Clarke county line; and over in Clarke County, Glenn's went out of business but the Smyrna post office was established.

I found a series of advertiement in Burlington newspapers --- then the papers of record for southern Iowa --- placed by the government, seeking private contractors to carry the mail in this rapidly expanding region. Five of these routes involved routes based in Chariton.

One, published Feb. 15, 1854, read as follows: "9423 --- From Chariton, by Argo, Glenn's, Bartlettville, White Breast, and Hopeville, to Pisgah, 56 miles and back, once a week. Leave Chariton Thursday at 12 noon, arrive Pisgah next day by 8 p.m., leave Pisgah Tuesday at 6 a.m., arrive Chariton next day by 12 noon. Proposals to commence at Glenn's are invited; also, to omit Hopeville."

I'm not sure exactly what the contractor was to do with himself between Friday night and the next Tuesday morning, if becalmed in Pisgah for the weekend, but I suppose it's possible he might have combined this route with others and worked something out.

Bids also were sought on other weekly routes to and from Chariton: Chariton via Tallahoma and Osceola to Pisgah and back; Chariton via Newbern and Hammondsburg to Indianola and back; Chariton via Douglas and Lewis to Council Bluffs and back; and Chariton via Corydon and Grand River to Princeton, Missouri, and back.

The mail arrived in Chariton on routes based in Knoxville, Oskaloosa, Albia and Centerville.

Gradually, traffic on the old Mormon Trail diminished, however. One key reason was the direct route from Chariton almost due west via Tallahoma (northeast of Lucas) to Osceola. The main Western Stage Co. route followed this trail and it became the most frequently used.

Then the railroad changed everything. The main B.&M.R. route headed due west to Osceola and beyond, too. And the rail route southwest out of Chariton that offered connections to St. Joseph, commencing in the early 1870s, passed to the southeast of Argo and Fancy Hill through that upstart town named Derby. Gradually all of the settlements and post offices along the old trail in Lucas and Clarke counties, other than Chariton, faded and died.

A couple of other things to notice on the map --- The road in northern Wayne County connecting Bethlehem and Cambria was the Mormon Trail's "middle route," used most frequently after 1849 by Saints and many others headed west.

And I was interested to note the Hungarian settlement near New Buda in Decatur County. You can read, if you like, more about New Buda here.

Ring Out, Wild Bells ...

Here's a little poetry, courtesy of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, to accompany the departure of the old year and arrival of the new. Hopelessly (or hopefully if you like) Victorian, but appropriate still.

These few stanzas are part of Tennyson's much longer In Memoriam A.H.H., written over 17 years and completed in 1849, commemorating his intimate friend, English poet Arthur Henry Hallam (1811-1833), who most likely would have married Tennyson's sister, Emily, had he not died young. The larger work is a little bulky, although generally considered to be the poet's master work and revered as one of the great works of its age.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light.

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,

For those that here we see no more,

Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;

Ring in the nobler modes of life,

With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out thy mournful rhymes,

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,

The civic slander and the spite;

Ring in the love of truth and right,

Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart the kindlier hand;

Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Some of these lines have been set to music many times. Three stanzas, to a tune by Crawford Gates, appear in the 1985 LDS hymnal.

So who better to perform a few of the stanzas than the Crofts, an LDS family from tiny Firth, Idaho, who issued a lovely Christmas album during 2014 entitled "Sparrow in the Birch." The other advantage to this simple setting is that you can actually understand the words, not the case in some more elaborate choral settings. I'm not sure where this tune came from, however.

Looking for Argo & the Fancy Hill Hotel

Lucas County has all sorts of "ghostly" places that never quite got off the ground and then faded rapidly, but left behind names and a few stories. So, I set out to find more about Argo, the first in an alphabetical sequence, during Monday's storm --- traveling southwest vicariously down the Mormon Trail and back to 1853 and northern Union Township instead of shoveling snow or venturing out.

The map is intended to put Argo in context, but is based on the assumption you know where Goshen Baptist Church is (and if you don't, shame on you); Derby and Last Chance, too. It's based on the 1895 land ownership map of Union Township. Argo dates from 1853; Last Chance, from the early 1860s; and Derby, from 1872.

Argo was located on the Mormon Trail a mile and a half west of Goshen Church (built on the cemetery lot in 1861, destroyed by a tornado in 1876 and rebuilt just to the east after that) and Cemetery, initially in a log cabin built by Matthew and Elizabeth Irvin soon after they settled here during 1852.

The Fancy Hill Inn, built and operated by James and Nancy Leech, was a little farther along the trail at Argo, but not in Argo, since Argo really wasn't a place. It was a post office and, at that time, post offices were wherever the postmaster was --- occasionally in his pocket. The postmastership changed hands a few times during Argo's 20 years of existence and moved each time, mostly in the same immediate neighborhood, a couple of times, apparently, into Fancy Hill.

For the record, Argo was established on Feb. 21, 1853, when Matthew's appointment as postmaster became official. He served until Jan. 30, 1861, when James Leech (of Fancy Hill) took over. James turned the mail over to another neighbor, Simeon B. Chapman on June 22, 1861, and he in turn passed the post on to John A. Robinson on May 12, 1862. Robinson handed the position back to Leech on June 17, 1862; then Leech returned the office to Irvin and he served this time until March 21, 1871, when Alfred M. Hood was appointed. The post office was discontinued on Oct. 13, l875 --- killed (along with the Fancy Hill Inn) by the emergence of Derby just down the road along newly built railroad tracks.

All that thrashing around in the early 1860s was Civil War-related. Argo was a recruting point and even postmasters sometimes signed up.

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We know what Matthew Irvin looked like because Kory Darnell posted the photo at left, above, to Matthew's Find A Grave memorial (Goshen Cemetery) last year.

And we know quite a bit about Matthew and Elizabeth because of a biographical sketch of their son, Matthew G. Irvin Jr., that was published during 1896 on Page 949 of A Memorial and Biographical Record of Iowa. Here are the paragraphs relating to the senior Irvins:

Matthew Irvin was a good representative of that enterprising and high-principled race, the Scotch-Irish, being a native of north Ireland . He was a lad of twelve years when his father, Guy Irvin, emigrated to the United States and settled in Coshocton county, Ohio; and thus, being early "Americanized" as a specimen of humanity in regard to mental qualifications, one might compare him with a scion grafted upon the best of stock. After attaining the full growth of manhood he was united in marriage with Miss Elizabeth Heller, a native of Ohio and of a good and thrifty family, who were of German ancestry; she was a daughter of Anthony Heller. After marriage they settled in Tuscarawas county, Ohio , where they resided until the year 1850, when they removed to Iowa, coming with a wagon and three horses, which brought all their household goods and a set of carpenter's tools.

For the first year in this State they resided in Monroe county, and then came to Lucas county, settling permanently in Union township on land now owned by the subject of this sketch (Matthew Irvin Jr.). They were among the first settlers on that prairie, which at that time was a broad expanse, unoccupied and unbroken by the hand of white man. Mr. Irvin built a log cabin of two rooms, furnishing it with a puncheon floor, an old-fashioned large fireplace, a clapboard roof, etc. There was but one house between his place and Chariton, fourteen miles distant. This family was well known for their hospitality and intelligence, the latch string of their humble door always hanging out. Friend or stranger was always welcome, and the needy always received assistance at the hands of this kindly disposed family; and they knew how to treat all comers in a royal manner.

In 1861, on the old Mormon "trail," Mr. Irvin erected a large, commodious dwelling, near where his son, our subject, now resides, --- indeed, in the same yard. This residence, still standing, is 18 x 40 feet in dimensions and two stories high, with an L 16 x 24 feet. At the time it was built it was one of the largest houses in the township.

In the family of Mr. Irvin were six children, three of whom are now deceased. The living are: Andrew J., a resident, of Union township; M. G., whose name forms the introduction to this biographical sketch; and Sarah E., who became the wife of Mr. Brough and died in 1891 in Oklahoma. 

Mr. Irvin died in 1877, at the golden age of seventy-three years. By trade he was a carpenter and wagon-maker, and he was a good mechanic, especially in wood. In his political sympathies he was a Jackson Democrat, and his high intellectual and moral character was attested by his election to the office of Justice of the Peace. He was also Postmaster of Argo, in Union township, for a number of years. In religion he was reared a Presbyterian, but in mature life he became a Methodist and finally a member of the Christian Church. He was a man of good physique, of perpendicular carriage and weighing about 175 pounds and being six feet tall.

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More information about Matthew and his family comes from a paper read during 1910 by J. L. Washburn during a meeting of old settlers in Derby. The paper was published in two consecutive issues of The Herald-Patriot later that month.

Regarding Matthew, Washburn wrote in part:

"Turning again to the political side of our township's history, I have ascertained that it appears our first Justice of the Peace was Esq. Matthew Irvin, father of our society's venerable ex-president A.J. Irvin, also M.G. Irvin. He resided on the south side of the Mormon trace road, just west of the present home of A.J. Irvin. He was not only a man of high mind and lofty purposes, but he chose to build his dwelling on the very crest of our watershed, which divides the waters of the Missouri from those of the father of waters. Here he could watch the rain descend and know that by the works of his own hands makes it flow in opposite directions from one house top. His well was so located that he could without changing his feet pour water first into one great river, then the other."  (Note: The Irvin homes appear to have been on the north side of the trail instead.)

Washburn goes on to say of Matthew Irvin and Argo:

"Mr. Irvin had also the distinction of being the first postmaster in Union township, his commission dated in 1856 (actually, 1853). He continued as postmaster until the administration of Abraham Lincoln, the office being in his residence and known to the world as Argo. Then it was held in turn by Simeon Chapman, James Leach (sic), A.J. Hood and Mr. Glenn....

"It was here many of the recruits joined the 34th Iowa Infantry, which did such gallant service under our county (historical society) president, the Hon. Warren S. Dungan as their noble Colonel."

Washburn cites a "Mr. Glenn" as the final Argo postmaster, but his name does not appear in official records.

Of Glenn, Washburn writes "Mr. Glenn lived and held the post office where the late Smith Boggs' home was and where his widow still resides, one mile southwest of Last Chance.... In 1862 or '63 Wm. McKenny established a general store at Last Chance and the post office was turned over to him, where it remained until about 1882 or '83."

Actually, the Argo post office appears to have been located in and near the Irvin home and the Fancy Hill hotel until it was discontinued during October of 1875, but another post office had been established at Last Chance during the 1860s. Glenn may have handled the Argo mail on an interim basis until all patrons on the former route were formally assigned to the latter after 1875.

Here are a few further lines from Washburn, describing how the mail got to Argo from Chariton during those early Lucas County years:

"The early mail was carried for a time by A.J. Irvin or any of the neighbors who might chance to be in Chariton. Papers would be tied in a bundle, the letters tucked into an inner pocket until Argo was reached. The government was finally persuaded to furnish a carrier and John Mulky, of Oskaloosa, received the appointment. Mr. Mulky also carried passengers back and forth on his journeys. Thus we have a record of our first transportation line."

I'll be back another day with a little more about Argo and as much as I've been able to find out about the Fancy Hill Hotel.

Maps, coal mines & Iowa's rare species

Thanks to friend Lauri Hilgemann Ghormley, who shared the initial link yesterday afternoon, I've got all sorts of new stuff to look at oneline this morning when, otherwise, that bright pink (winter storm warning) weather map might demand attention.

Lauri's find was the Iowa Department of Natural Resources' interactive Coal Mine Maps application, located here, locating the mines --- most in south central Iowa --- that were such an important part of the region's economy from the 1870s until the 1930s and, to a much diminished extent, beyond.

When you open the map, "home" will be Des Moines --- but you can navigate to the part of the state you're interested in. The clip here is of Lucas County's English and Pleasant township coalfields, with Williamson in the lower left-hand corner of the map. Click on the name of a mine and, if information is available, it will pop up. If original maps of the mines are available, the pop-ups will contain links.

It's the best resource I've found for locating these old mines specifically and I'm having lots of fun with it.

The mines map is one of several mapping applications you can locate at the DNR's "Mapping & GIS" cover page, which is located here. Scroll down to the bottom of the page for the menu.

Several of these are interesting, but my other new favorite is entitled "Natural Areas Inventory," devoted to Iowa's rare species. Search by county, and you'll come up with this listing for Lucas.

Click on "PDF" after a species and an information sheet about it will pop up.

What a great way to spend a little time on a stormy day --- if you've got the time. And, of course, unless that ice develops, the winds arise and the power goes out.

Have a great day!

On the trail with Nelson Wescoatt

Tombstone in the Marysville Cemetery shared by Nelson and Catherine Wescoatt.

Yesterday's post focused on two of the Wescoatt boys --- specifically the trek of Jonas and Riley Wescoatt and their families across the Great Plains from Chariton to California during 1853. But I didn't say much about their older brother, Nelson, who also made his way to California in 1853 and, as it turned out, led an extraordinarily eventful life, too.

Nelson was born during 1821 in Ohio, where his parents --- Joseph F. and Sarah Wescoatt --- lived briefly before settling in Indiana. During 1838, when he was about 17, he came with his family from Indiana to Keosauqua in Van Buren County, Iowa, where the father died during 1840.

As soon as Lucas County's neighbor to the east, Monroe, opened for settlement during the spring of 1843, Nelson was there. His marriage at age 23 to Mary Searcy on Aug. 1, 1844, was the first to occur in the new territory, at the time still under the jurisdiction of Wapello County. Sadly, Mary died three months later "of effects of fever." Her death reportedly also was a county first, a lamentable distinction.

Here's a brief account of her burial, found on Page 351 of The Western Historical Society's 1878 History of Monroe County, Iowa: "In those days there was no lumber to be had, and the question of how to construct a coffin for the occasion was a serious one. A black walnut tree was cut down and from it puncheons were hewed. From these a coffin was made, the place of nails being supplied with wooden pegs. This rude box was covered with velveteen, obtained at W.G. Clark's. The lone resting place of the first bride is still pointed out on the old Searcey place."

Mary (Searcy) Wescoatt's older brother, by the way, was Beverly Searcy --- also a Chariton pioneer and the builder of Lucas County's first courthouse.

Three years after his brief first marriage, in 1847, Nelson built Monroe County's first saw mill three miles west of Albia. He also farmed, apparently running quite a few cattle. William McDermott, the first settler in Lucas County's Cedar Township, purchased 35 head of cattle from him in 1848, paying $10-12 per head for cows, $4 per head for calves.

During 1849, Nelson, his brother, Jonas, and his brother-in-law, Beverly Searcy, all joined Buck Townsend at Chariton Point prior to the first Monday in November, when the first lots in the newly located city of Chariton were sold at public auction. It was during that auction that Nelson purchased for the brothers the lot on the northwest corner of the square where they began immediately to build a log cabin, reportedly Chariton's first.

By some accounts, there were two cabins on the lot --- one the Wescoatt store and the other, where the families of Nelson and Jonas lived together.

Once the building project was complete, Nelson returned to Albia and on Feb. 16, 1850, married as his second wife Catherine T. King, who accompanied him to their new home in Chariton.

On Jan. 24, 1850, Nelson was appointed Chariton's first postmaster, replacing William H. Moore, who had handled the mail on an interim basis since Dec. 26, 1849. The post office was located in the Wescoatt store and mail arrived once a week from Albia, by horseback in the afternoon. Chariton was the end of the line at that time --- outgoing mail was dispatched to Albia via the same carrier the next morning.

By April of 1850, Nelson --- a man of many talents --- had been named county surveyor; one of his first task to resurvey and replat Chariton because the initial plat, prepared during the fall of 1849 by Buck Townsend, had proved unsatisfactory.

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In 1851, Nelson and Catherine decided to move along --- from Chariton to Garden Grove, in Decatur County, then just beginning to boom. Their first child, Oscar K., had been born in Chariton on Jan. 28 of that year.

Garden Grove, founded during April of 1846 by Brigham Young as a way station for Mormon pioneers heading west, now was transitioning as permanent settlers arrived to buy improved Mormon claims. This gave the new arrivals a head start and also offered the resources LDS pioneers needed to continue their journey west.

The new village of Garden Grove was located on high flat prairie a mile east of the original settlement, which had been purposely sited near woodland. The Decatur County seat of Leon had not yet been located, let alone settled.

Nelson sold his interest in the Wescoatt store in Chariton to Jonas, who also took over as postmaster effective May 1, 1851. In Garden Grove, Nelson and Catherine purchased a store that had been founded by Ozro N. Kellogg, one of the earliest permanent settlers. He had been named Garden Grove postmaster during January of 1851. Nelson received the appointment to succeed him on Oct. 9, 1851.

Earlier in 1851, Nelson had signed on as surveyor for a party of commissioners named by the Iowa Legislature to locate a state road that would commence at Bloomfield in Davis County, then continue west through Appanoose, Wayne, Decatur, Ringgold, Taylor, Page and Fremont counties to the Missouri River. The party left Garden Grove during September of 1851, returning with the job complete several weeks later as winter set in.

But the Wescoatts apparently remained in Garden Grove only until late summer, 1852, then moved on again. The appointment as Garden Grove postmaster went to Josiah Morgan during August of that year.

A daughter, Flora, was born in Iowa apparently in late 1852 or early 1853, but its not clear exactly where her parents were living at the time.

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By late 1853, Nelson, Catherine and their children had arrived in California --- they apparently did not travel with Jonas and Riley and their families --- but the destination was the same: Marysville, in northern California's Yuba County, one of the largest and most strategically located Gold Rush cities. By 1853, Marysville had boomed from a tent city to a minor metropolis with brick buildings and 10,000 residents, its economy fueled by gold.

The Wescoatts prospered in Marysville. Nelson was elected city surveyor, then county surveyor, dabbled in mining and apparently engaged in a number of other business enterprises. When the 1860 federal census of Marysville was taken, he owned real estate valued at $10,000 and personal property valued at $1,000 --- a not inconsiderable amount for that time.

Two additional children were born in California. Henry, born soon after their arrival, died of "cholera infantum" on May  26, 1856, at the age of 15 months. William H., born during 1857, survived.

In 1861, however, little Flora Wescoatt died and was buried with Henry in the Marysville Cemetery.

Wife and mother, Catherine, followed her children to the grave on May 20, 1865, at the age of 34, and was buried near them. This left Nelson on his own with two sons, William quite young, but he seems not to have been in a hurry to remarry and what sort of provision he made for his sons isn't known.

About 1862, with Marysville as his home base, Nelson had begun ranging widely through the gold  and silver fields to work as a surveyor and engineer, most notably at Virginia City, Nevada, making more money as a professional and an investor that he would have had he decided to dig for gold or silver himself. He apparently made --- and lost --- several fortunes during the next 30 years.

Although he returned to live in Marysville during 1868, hanging out his shingle as a mining engineer and surveyor, that didn't last long. His profession took him to Nevada, where among other distinctions he was elected to the state legislature and helped to write laws governing mine safety and address other issues; then to Colorado; then to Oregon; then to Washington; then finally as he entered his early 70s, back to California.

During November of 1889, smitten by a younger widow --- Jenny Webber --- he married for a third time while in Sonoma County, California, where his son Oscar, now with a family of his own, had settled. But this didn't work out, and they soon separated. He continued to roam, she settled down with her daughter from a previous marriage on the small ranch Nelson had purchased as a retirement home.

As the 1890s advanced, Nelson --- now in his 70s --- attempted to reconcile with Jenny, but she declined to do what he wanted her to do, they formalized their separation with a written agreeement and he went off to live with Oscar and his family at Bellevue in Sonoma County leaving Jenny in possession of the ranch, considerable funds --- and some $1,200 worth of diamonds that had been part of the wooing process.

Younger son William, who had settled in Los Angeles with his wife, Kitty, and was working as a court stenographer, came to a harsh end on Nov. 23, 1890. According to a report of his inquest, published in The Los Angeles Herald of Nov. 25, his death was caused by prolonged addiction to a deadly mix of whiskey and morphine. His widow testified that he had been consuming up to three small bottles of whiskey a day and injecting morphine two or three times daily --- but not eating ---during the final days of his life.

Nelson was living in Nevada at the time of William's death, but financed his funeral and burial in a Los Angeles cemetery.

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Nelson, although now retired and living with his son, Oscar, seemed to be in reasonably good health when he dropped dead of a heart attack on Sept. 7, 1896, in Bellevue, at the age of 75. He had come a long way from that log cabin store on the northwest corner of the Chariton square. Three brief obituaries tell his story in slightly differing ways.

The shortest appeared in The Engineering and Mining Journal of Sept. 19, 1896:

NELSON WESCOATT died at Bellevue, September 7th, aged 75 years. He came to the Pacific coast in the year 1850 (actually, 1853) and first settled at Marysville, Cal. Removing to Nevada, he made a reputation as a mining expert. After serving several years in the Nevada State Senate, he amassed a large fortune in mines in Colorado and other states.

His most extensive obituary was published in The San Francisco Chronicle of Sept. 8, 1896:

SUDDEN END OF A PIONEER

Death of Nelson Wescoatt Near Santa Rosa

Well-Known Miner of Early Days --- He Had Operated in Many States.

SANTA ROSA, Sept. 7 --- Nelson Wescoatt, a well-known pioneer, died at the home of his son, Oscar Wescoatt, at Bellevue, very suddenly this morning. Apparently he was well until about two minutes before he died. Death was due to heart failure.

Wescoatt was a native of Ohio. He came to California in 1853, settling first at Marysville, where he remained nine years. He was a mining engineer. From Marysville he went to Virginia City, Nev., where he engaged in mining, being very successful. While in Nevada he was elected a member of the State Senate. From Nevada he went to Colorado and operated a number of mines successfully. Then he went to Oregon and later to Washington, and finally returned to California.

For the past few years he resided with his son at Bellevue. But one child survives him, his son, Oscar. He was 75 years old and a prominent Mason, being a member of Santa Rosa Lodge, No. 57, F. and A.M.

Funeral services will be held at the home of his son at 2 o'clock tomorrow, after which the remains will be brought to the Masonic Temple here. They will remain there until Wednesday, when they will be taken to Marysville to be interred by those of his wife.

Mr. Wescoatt has three brothers living --- Riley, who lives in Ohio (actually Nebraska), Joseph, who lives in New York; and Jonas, who lives near this city.

A third obituary, from The San Francisco Call of Sept. 8, although shorter, does a better job of capturing something of Nelson's character:

PASSED AWAY AT BELLEVUE

Death of Nelson Wescoatt, Mining Expert, Law-Maker and Philanthropist

SANTA ROSA, Sept. 7 --- Nelson Wescoatt, the well-known mining expert, died this morning at the residence of his son, John (actually Oscar) Wescoatt, near Bellevue.

Wescoatt was a native of Ohio, aged 75 years, and came to this state in 1853. In 1862 he went to Virginia City, where he made and lost several fortunes. He was at one time a State Senator in Nevada, and was the author of some of the mining laws now on the statute books of that state. He was considered an authority on mining topics, and his advice was often sought by the most prominent mining men of the West. Of a warm-hearted and generous nature, he assisted is friends whenever asked, and he gave away more money than it falls to the lot of the average man to possess in a lifetime. He possessed valuable mining property in Candelaria, Nev., at the time of his death. He leaves surviving three brothers and a son.

High Plains adventure: Chariton to California in 1853

Here's a story of high adventure for you on this second day of Christmas, involving the Wescoatt boys, Jonas (left) and Riley, who during 1853 put together a wagon train consisting of themselves and their families, some 35 unattached young men from Lucas and Monroe counties and about 400 cattle, then headed west across the Plains to California to make their fortunes.

Jonas, at the time, was Lucas County's first county judge/clerk, and held that position until 1854, although he actually wasn't here during the last months of his tenure. He and another brother, Nelson Wescoatt, and their wives --- Amy (Flint) and Catharine (King) --- joined Buck Townsend at Chariton Point during 1849, before there was a Chariton, and so were here for the creation. Jonas was elected the first county judge and Nelson, who was the first county surveyor, platted Chariton and also served as its first postmaster.

Nelson and Jonas bought during the first sale of Chariton property a double lot at what now is the west end of the north side of the square (currently occupied by the Demichelis Building) where they built the first log structure in Chariton, lived, operated a store --- and dug the city's first well.

Their brother, Riley, apparently joined his brothers here, too, during those first days, but then married Mary Jane Richardson and settled down for a couple of years at Albia in Monroe County, where all three had lived before Lucas County opened for settlement.

At the time the Wescoatts were helping to found Chariton, it sat astraddle the Mormon Trail, forged during 1846 by LDS pioneers headed for Utah and by 1853 --- after gold had been discovered discovered in California during 1849 --- the main route west across Iowa for everyone. After 1850, gold-seekers and land-hungry settlers rather than religious refugees became its principal users and the westward flow reportedly was constant.

Nelson and Catherine Wescoatt headed for the gold fields first, about 1851; and then in 1853, Jonas and Riley began assembling their party, buying cattle from Lucas and Monroe county farmers and looking for young men in both counties interested in gold and looking for the best way to get to California to find it. It seems likely that the staging area for this expedition was in or near Chariton, but I can't prove that.

The story-teller here is Riley Wescoatt and this version was published near the turn of the 20th century in two places --- on Page 1 of The Sunday State Journal, Lincoln, Nebraska, on March 21, 1909; and as Chapter 7 of the 1916 Buffalo County, Nebraska, and It's People: A Record of Settlement.

Here's the story:

ACROSS THE PLAINS IN 1853

Capt. Riley Wescoatt (left), an early settler in Central Nebraska, relates his experience in crossing the plains in 1853.

In the spring of 1853 Riley and Jonas Wescoatt of (Chariton and ) Albia, la., arranged to take a herd of 400 young cows across the plains to California. Jonas Wescoatt had made the trip to California and back the year previous with the view to the present enterprise. Their cows cost them about four thousand dollars, and in addition the expense of the necessary outfit, comprising saddle horses, wagons and twenty yoke of oxen, provisions, bedding, ammunition and other necessaries for so extended a journey along the route of which nothing could be purchased. 

The Wescoatt brothers were both married and their wives and three children accompanied them. Their wagons were covered and the wagon boxes extended over the wheels so as to provide comfortable sleeping quarters and as they carried feather beds and plenty of bedding they made the journey with comparative comfort.

The saddle horses were for use in driving the cattle, the Wescoatt brothers furnishing board and transportation for thirty-five men who wished to go to California and who assisted in driving and caring for the cattle and doing each his share of guard duty as compensation for board and transportation.

The Wescoatt family had moved from the Tippecanoe battle ground in Indiana to Monroe County, la., in 1831, and the thirty-five men who accompanied them on this journey were neighbors with whom they were well acquainted, as it was a somewhat hazardous undertaking and only men of character and courage were wanted.

(Actually, the Wescoatt boys had come to Van Buren County --- not Monroe --- from Indiana during 1838 --- not 1831 --- with their parents, Joseph F. and Sarah Wescoatt. Joseph died at Keosauqua during 1840. Monroe County didn't open to settlers until 1843, after which some of the boys moved there. Sarah remained at Keosauqua until 1852, when she joined Jonas and Nelson and their families in Chariton. She remained in Chariton until her death during 1888.)

They crossed the Missouri River on April 28th at Bellevue (Nebraska), then a trading point, and Mr. Riley Wescoatt states that they saw no house or habitation after leaving the Missouri River until their arrival in California, except the ranch later known as "Boyd's Ranch" on Wood River, about ten miles northeast of Fort Kearney, the location of this ranch being about a mile west of the present Village of Gibbon in Buffalo County.

It was an unusually early spring and even at that early date the emigrant travel was so great that six steamboats had come up the Missouri River from below and were used for ferrying purposes at the Bellevue crossing.

At the crossing of the Missouri the Wescoatt brothers met a party of 100 well armed men enroute for California and under command of Capt. John Fuller. Captain Fuller had made the journey to California the previous year and had arranged to furnish board and transportation for these 100 men, they to pay him $100 each, $10,000 in all, and each man to do his full share of guard duty. 

The Wescoatt brothers and Captain Fuller arranged to make the journey together and did so, not camping more than a mile apart during the entire journey.

The party traveled the trail north of the Platte and because of the heavy emigration over the trail found the pasture very short. . Because of the scantiness of the pasture they were compelled to range their cattle, at times some distance from the regular trail and so for the first month their rate of travel was very slow.

On May 28th, about one hour before sundown, when the party was about four miles south of the present Village of Wood River, in Hall County, Nebraska, and was preparing to camp for the night, it was noticed that there was a commotion on the south side of the Platte River and the firing of guns was heard. By means of field glasses which both commands carried, it was seen that a large party of Indians had attacked an emigrant camp on the south bank of the Platte and were scalping women in the camp. The fight appeared to last but a short time, ten minutes, Mr. Wescoatt says, and while there was some talk of crossing the river it was finally decided not to do so.

In explanation of this decision Mr. Wescoatt says : "The Platte was very high, and also our own commands were in danger of attack, as there appeared to be a large party of the Indians, and it was thought best not to divide our own forces."

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 As a matter of general information in connection with this tragedy it might be well to state that the Platte River at this point is more than a mile wide from its north to its south bank. There is one large and several small islands in the river and three main channels. The largest or north channel is about 1,400 feet in width, the middle one about 1,000 feet and the south channel about 350 feet, in all the water channels are nearly 3,000 feet in width. High water occurs in the Platte from May 15th to June 15th, varying with the earliness of the season when the melted snow from the mountains comes rushing down on its way to the ocean. The fall in the Platte River is 3,400 feet in the 400 miles across the State of Nebraska, being an average fall of about eight feet to the mile. When we compare this fall with that of the Mississippi River, averaging less than one foot fall to three miles between its mouth and St. Paul, Minn., it will be seen that the fall in the Platte is nearly twenty-five times as great as in the Mississippi. The Platte has a sandy bottom and in high water numerous quicksand holes, also in high water there is somewhere between its banks what is termed a "main channel," here today, elsewhere tomorrow, continually changing, in which the water is much deeper and runs with a stronger current than the remainder of the stream, making it an extremely dangerous river to cross when the water is an average of three feet in depth and much deeper in the "main channel" referred to. These explanations are deemed necessary because the casual reader, not understanding the surrounding conditions, might be led to think the Wescoatt and Fuller commands were heartless and lacking in courage in not at once going to the rescue of attacked emigrants. Also the reader will in some measure be the better able to realize what a small boy braved and endured in his escape on this occasion.

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The Wescoatt and Fuller commands camped at this point for the night. About 2 o'clock the next morning the camp guard brought a small boy to Mr. Riley Wescoatt. The boy's clothing, consisting of shirt and trousers, was wet and the child, while greatly excited, seemed able to control his feelings. He said he belonged to an emigrant party going to California and camped on the other side of the river; that last evening they were attacked by a large party of Indians and he was afraid all but himself were killed; that he hid in the brush on the bank of the river and when it became dark he saw a camp fire on the other side of the river and knowing how to swim had crossed over; that he was carried down the river a long ways, five miles he told Mr. Wescoatt, and when he got across he had followed the river until he reached the camp. 

The boy said his name was John Hodges and that there were five in the family, his father, mother and three children.

 John was at once taken to Captain Fuller. Messengers were sent to camps below on the trail, requesting as many men as could be spared to come, armed and mounted, ready to cross the river at daylight. Mr. Wescoatt states that guns carried on this journey were flint-lock muskets, although some of the party had revolvers with percussion caps. Little John was given a revolver and a horse and took an active part in the fight with the Indians later in the day. Mr. Wescoatt states that John was about thirteen years old and a boy of more than ordinary intelligence, energy and courage.

At daylight a party of 185 men, armed and mounted, crossed the Platte, going direct to the place of the massacre. They found the emigrant party consisted of fifteen men, nine women and four children, all killed except the boy, John Hodges. The women had been scalped, but not the men. The wagon train, consisting of seven wagons and the necessary oxen, had been destroyed, the Indians burning most of the wagons and contents. It appeared that the Indians were armed with bows and flint pointed arrows, though little John thought some of the Indians had guns. If the emigrants had killed any of the Indians the dead bodies could not be found.

Captain Fuller was in command and his party took the trail of the Indians and it was soon learned that the Indians had already broken camp and were going south towards the Republican River some fifty miles distant. The Indians were surprised and attacked some miles south of the Platte River on the divide where it was broken by ravines and draws. The Indians were mostly mounted on ponies and it was a running fight, lasting two hours or more. At the close thirty-seven dead Indians were counted. It was estimated that the Indians numbered one hundred and fifty. They were Sioux, all warriors, and undoubtedly a war party as they were in Pawnee territory and the Sioux and Pawnees were traditional enemies.

The Fuller command returned to the place of massacre about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and planned for the burial of the murdered people. Graves were dug on a rise of ground near the emigrant camp and members of families, as identified by little John, buried side by side. There was nothing of which coffins could be made and the dead were wrapped in their clothing and committed to the care of Mother Earth who is ever kind. 

The Wescoatt and Fuller commands remained in camp two days before the burial of the emigrants was completed. Their next camp was near a place known later as "Boyd's Ranch," before mentioned in this paper, the Wescoatt party camping on what is now section 21 and the Fuller command on the hill or bluff on what is now known as section 16, both in Gibbon Township, Buffalo County.

It was somehow understood that a war party of Sioux, 400 strong, were preparing to attack these two commands in revenge for the Indians killed in the fight south of the Platte and an anxious night was passed, but the commands were not molested. The Indians had been troublesome all along the trail that spring and word was sent to the officers at Fort Kearney in regard to the massacre of emigrants less than twenty-five miles east of that fort, but the officers of that garrison made no response and Mr. Wescoatt spoke of the officers of the fort at that date in terms not at all complimentary. 

The buildings of the ranch mentioned were of sod with dirt roofs and the owner had a large corral in the bend of the river west of the house. He trafficked in oxen and horses, trading for such animals as had become lame on the trail. He had a considerable number of men about the place, frontiersmen, some half-breeds, most of whom could speak the Indian language. He seemed to be on good terms with the Indians and did not seem to fear an attack.

The ranchmen kept liquor for sale, freighting, as he said, alcohol from the Missouri River and making out of one barrels of alcohol twenty barrels of whisky, selling his whisky for $20 a gallon. Both the Wescoatt and Fuller commands bought each twenty gallons of whisky, paying $800 in all. The wives of the Wescoatt brothers carried the money and the men had quite a time to convince their wives that it was advisable to purchase the liquor, but the men in their employ insisted that liquor was needed on so long a journey and as it could not be secured elsewhere it was purchased.

The boy, John Hodges, was made one of the family by Mr. and Mrs. Riley Wescoatt, Mrs. Wescoatt coming to love and care for him as one of her own family, and he accompanied them to California, where the two commands arrived on August 17, 1853. The boy made his home with the Wescoatts for more than two years, when he one day accompanied, as usual, Mr. Wescoatt to Sacramento, some five miles distant from their ranch. On the street John saw and recognized an uncle who had gone to California some years before and who had not before learned of the massacre of his relatives. This uncle was a rich ranchman and accompanied Mr. Wescoatt home and remained several days, finally inducing his nephew to make his home with him.

The Wescoatt brothers realized a profit of more than sixteen thousand dollars for their cattle, some of the choicest cows bringing $150 each and the heavier oxen $300 a pair.

Jonas Wescoatt and wife soon returned to Iowa where Mr. Wescoatt served for many years as a judge in that state. After the death of his wife, he returned to California, living in a hotel in San Francisco, where he lost his life in the destruction of that city by earthquake a few years ago (on April 18, 1906). 

Riley Wescoatt and wife returned to their Iowa home about the year 1856, coming via Panama, crossing the isthmus soon after the completion of the rail- road at that place. Mr. Riley Wescoatt was a soldier in the Mexican war, serving under General Taylor. He was wounded soon after reaching Mexican soil and returned home. 

On the breaking out of the Civil war he raised in his own county Company H, First Iowa Cavalry, being commissioned captain of that company and promising the members of the company that he would remain with them during their term of service. He remained with the company as captain and was mustered out with his regiment April i6, 1864. 

In 1875 Mr. and Mrs. Wescoatt came to Nebraska, taking a homestead on Elm Island, in Hall County, less than two miles distant from where the massacre of the emigrants occurred in 1853, and repeatedly visited the place where they were buried. Mrs. Riley Wescoatt died July 15, 1905. The death of Mr. Wescoatt occurred on March 6, 1909. He was buried beside his brave and courageous wife in Riverside Cemetery, near Gibbon.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

Cross the Jordan just east of New York and climb through woods and hills to Bethlehem --- where the star still shines as winter deepens, Confidence still is down the road, Promise City farther on.

Once upon another time, long before Vietnam and AIDS, institutionalized incivility and the digital revolution, we sang carols here, ragtag children from places with wonderful names — Rabbit Hill, Dry Flat and the Sunnyslope Church of Christ. Sam Savage was among our shepherds.

In a time and place where none of us had much, Sam's family had less. Except children. They were rich in children.

Visits were magic for an only child — water that ran when you ran to the well to get it, linoleum floors scrubbed and waxed into mirrors and beds everywhere — or so it seemed to a kid who always had a room of his own; an oil-burner and love to keep it warm.

Sugar cookies and cocoa were promised, then simple gifts exchanged around a cedar tree cut in the pasture and draped in construction-paper chains.

But first into that cold December night in Sam's car and others --- and on to Bethlehem.

Once there and ushered into a living room by a middle-aged son, we found his mother in the circle of light from a small lamp, reading her Bible with a magnifying glass. Sharp-eyed children, 60 years down the road now with magnifying glasses of their own, wondered at that.

Next door, back from the road, a white-haired grandmother in print dress and apron had pulled cookies from the oven not long before we walked in the door.

Then Belle McMurry in her rose-colored house. For years, WHO-TV reporters called Belle on Christmas Eve, asking what it was like to be in Bethlehem as midnight neared. As if anyone could describe it.

And so we sang, "Silent Night," "O Little Town," and in return — smiles and thank-yous, God-bless-yous, cookies, candy and more; then into the night again.

Bethlehem is a ghost now, the church gone, recycled into a tiny chapel in a little park, most of the houses cleared and 160 years of Wayne County history planted to corn and beans. Belle, who survived the longest, sleeps on the hill south of town and her cheerful house has been reclad in cream-colored vinyl.

But Bethlehem's star shines still, in my heart at least, even on the darkest and coldest winter night.

"O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie,

"Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.

"Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light.

"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."

Bah Humbug

Years ago, I had to make a Christmas morning trip down to Casey's on Court to pick up something forgotten the day before --- and Casey's was all that was open. An older woman was in front of me in the lineup and when the clerk wished her a "merry Christmas" she replied, "Hrumph --- just a day like any other."

I thought that was a little harsh at the time, but the older I get the more I want to go back and say, "you go, girl!"

In retrospect, I think that my grumpy friend may have been a Jehovah's Witness --- there used to be more members of that denomination in Chariton; and the Witnesses do not observe Christmas because of various "pagan" elements incorporated into the celebration. 

I've known a few Witnesses since who can be quite vocal about this --- they get their holly jollies by raining on my Christmas parade. Which is fine. You take your joy where you can find it.

The season has all sorts of gifts to bring forward. Just think how much self-righteous satisfaction some of our friends have derived while demanding a mandatory "Merry Christmas!" from those of us content to be wished a "happy holiday."

Here are a few other things I've been thinking about as Christmas approached.

1. There are a lot of folks out there grieving --- for lost loved ones, lost relationships, lost jobs, other losses. Don't expect them to perk up during the holidays just to make the rest of us feel better. Don't share pet theories about how to make it better. Time will do that in most instances --- we won't. Relax --- so that they can, too.

2. There are a lot of folks out there who aren't feeling all that well. At least three people I know are dealing with cancer right now. I want them to know that they're my heroes. You can kind of let your friends in similar positions know that, too --- then for the most part just shut up unless asked for a further opinion --- or you can see a way to offer practical help.

3. You'll hear a lot about "peace on earth," "the prince of peace," that sort of seasonal thing. But there are good reasons to be cynical about the sincerity behind all of those good words and the willingness of those who say them to carry through. That doesn't mean we shouldn't do our darndest to be instruments of peace.

4. A lot of folks out there are hungry, tired, poor, even homeless. Count blessings and share our resources --- if we've got them --- but remember that useful benevolence is consistent, not a holiday exception. 

5. It matters not a whit in the grand scheme of things what we choose to believe or not believe after foraging in that great pile of human myth and magic --- it's how we behave that counts. Lord knows, we all can do better.

There's a lot to be distressed about at Christmas --- as at any other time of the year. Bah humbug. But many opportunities to share some joy. Merry Christmas!

The 25 greatest carols ...

I've been counting down toward Christmas the last few days with what the folks at Classical-music.com ("the official website of BBC Music Magazine") are calling "The 25 greatest Christmas Carols." Had I discovered the site sooner, I'd have started counting earlier.

These are presented as "the best Christmas carols ever written, as voted for by 50 top choral experts from across the UK and US."

Today's is Herbert Howells' setting for a "A Spotless Rose," performed during 2013 lessons and carols at Kings College Cambridge --- hence the illustration of a chorister here.

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I love Christmas music, choral and otherwise --- or at least most of it. Although it does get a little old when it commences the day after Thanksgiving and then stops abruptly after a full-day glut on the 25th. When, of course, it should commence on Christmas Eve and continue through Epiphany unless confined to special pre-holiday programming.

There are exceptions, most involving newer tunes. The Christmasization of Leonard Cohen's glorious "Hallelujah," for example, causes me to sputter when backed into a corner and forced to listen --- a critic once described this travesty as the most "intellectually bankrupt and aesthetically insipid" Christmas song ever written. Close.

I'd give that honor, however, to "The Christmas Shoes." Some years ago I was taken to a Christmas morning service in a large church where we were treated to a karaoke performance of this gem. It was the sort of experience that could cause the most convicted believer to leave a building fully atheist.

On the other hand, I'm a fan of "Granny Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and, as you might expect from a card-carrying homosexual of a certain age, Barbara Streisand's 1967 "A Christmas Album" is mandatory listening during the holiday season.

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Anyhow, give the greatest carols site a try --- here's the link. Every carol is accompanied by a brief explainer and a YouTube performance.

Here's one of my favorites --- John Gardner's arrangement of "Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day," No. 20 on the BBC list.

Solstice salutations!

It's so hard to know what to do when time-zone variances skew holiday celebrations. The winter solstice, for example, occurred in Iowa at 10:49 p.m. Monday, Dec. 21, CST, which translates as 04:49 Tuesday, Dec. 22, Greenwich Mean Time, or GMT (now superseded by Coordinated Universal Time, or UTC) in merry olde England. So Dec. 22 is the official date of this year's solstice even though it occurred on Dec. 21 here.

In the southern hemisphere, of course, our winter solstice is their summer solstice --- and don't even mention the International Date Line --- please.

Whatever the case, I thought about lighting a fire in the middle of the front yard last evening, then dancing around it in my pajamas to celebrate --- but went to bed instead.

Just as well. Ever since Christians declared war on the solstice some centuries ago, we've had plenty of pagan symbolism incorporated into our winter celebration any way.

Those who consider such things are inclined to think the early Christians just appropriated the solstice season and appended Christmas to it. In case you're the sort who worries about such things, there's nothing in the least "Biblical" about Christmas --- in fact our Puritan forbears outlawed it for a time because of that.

But there is a conflicting theory --- that the Blessed Virgin Mary jotted down the date of the Annunciation --- March 25 --- in her diary and since we know that infants always are born precisely 9 months after conception, the blessed babe really did spring forth on December 25th.

Take your pick, but light a candle, turn the Christmas tree on, celebrate the returning of the light.

Be warned, however that "as the days grow longer, the cold grows stronger." Even though the predicted high here today is 46 --- and the first chance of a little snow (mixed with rain) won't come until Saturday evening.

For the birds: A Julenek

I'm not very consistent about putting up (or taking down) holiday decorations, but these two vintage post cards always come out of storage for the season. They were given to me many years ago when I lived in Thompson, a small then-predominantly (and perhaps still) Norwegian town in Winnebago County.

The little girl in the "Godt Nytarr!" card is carrying a package dated 1916, so I'm assuming that both  colorful little scraps of paper are a century old.

I like the Christmas card best because of the birds flying toward the Julenek attached to the ridgepole of the little house.

A Julenek, which means "Christmas sheaf," is a sheaf of grain --- oats or wheat --- traditionally attached on Christmas morning to a pole like that shown on the card, or attached to a pole driven into the ground, or just hung somewhere. The idea was (and is) to provide a Christmas meal for the birds, too.

The Julenek in various sizes remains a popular holiday decoration in Norway, although I'm guessing somewhat disassociated now from its original purpose as food and shelter for feathered friends.

The equivalent here would be to make sure that the bird feeders are full on Christmas morning.

Laughing all the way to the altar rail ...

Religion, when it isn't being helpful, can be fairly horrible --- but it does help to laugh. So I look forward to daily (or more frequent) Facebook posts from my friends at "Unvirtuous Abbey." These are a few, seasonal and otherwise, that have appeared in my "feed" during the last few days.

We all have a short list of folks we'd pay the price of admission to see take a direct hit in mid-sentence, for example. Were such things likely, I might watch the Republican presidential debates.

Speaking of presidential debates, has it ever occurred to you that most depictions of the last supper look more like the preliminaries to a televised panel discussion than a shared meal? I tried attending a recreation of this event one time, but got the giggles. Jesus was wearing socks with his sandals.

Here's a seasonal reminder that holy families come in many varieties.

Been there, done that.

Been there and done that, too.



Really like this card.

Sometimes those of us who are skeptics can go a little overboard, too.

Always good to remember.

And some days, the hardest of all commandments to keep.

Jesus was born down in Wayne County

 

I've been saving until the appropriate season a brief news item clipped from The Chariton Herald of Feb. 26, 1903. Now that it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas and the season is almost upon us --- here it is:

"A funny little Christmas-time story has just been told by one of the Chariton school teachers. It was during the exercises held in one of the lower rooms just before Chritmas vacation, and the teacher was asking various questions about Christmas.

"She asked where Christ was born, and one little boy popped up his hand and answered, 'Down in Wayne county.'

"The teacher tried not to laugh, and asked him again to make sure. Again came the positive reply, 'Down in Wayne county.'

" 'Why do you think he was born in Wayne county?' the teacher asked. 'Because you told us once that he was born at Bethlehem,' the boy replied, 'and that's down in Wayne county, because Papa gets coal there.' "

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My papa, too --- although 15-20 years after this item was written, as a kid along for the ride when his dad and young uncles headed down with teams and wagons across country from the Myers settlement on the New York Road to pick up a winter's supply of coal.

Stops were made then for supplies at the store in Bethlehem before continuing on to the mines east of the village, occupied at that time still by a hundred or more people.

I followed their route down Friday afternoon, a little frustrated in the quest for historical accuracy because Wayne County recently has closed the Duck Valley road and I had to drive straight to New York, then take the paved route east to the Jordan River crossing and up to the highlands beyond.

Here's is how Bethlehem looked yesterday --- only two dwellings and Bethlehem Chapel downtown now, plus the giant Rathbun Regional Water Association tower. But there are a few other houses, some brand new, in the suburbs --- greater Bethlehem, as we call it.

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Here's how Bethlehem looked --- in map form --- during 1897, when it was immortalized in the Wayne County plat book of that year. Note that there once were three churches here --- Christian (Disciples), Methodist and Baptist. (The Disciples were between churches when this map was drawn and neither the location of the original Union church nor the later Frist Christian, dedicated in 1903, is shown.) And also that the most northerly east-west street was "Palm." appropriate for Bethlehem.

The Methodist church was the last to go and Bethlehem Chapel was built in what once was city park --- site of July 4th and other celebrations --- from its remains.

Interior of Bethlehem Chapel (dead flies on the carpet, alas)

The little chapel was dedicated during 1973 and remains in good repair, although the electrical supply to it has been cut and it needs sweeping since every fly in Union Township came here to die as the days grew colder.

This map locates Bethlehem in relationship to New York in Union Township --- but don't be looking for Millerton. That metropolis didn't come along until 1912-1913 when the Rock Island railroad was built west of New York, dooming its already declining neighbors to the east.

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Here's some "official" Bethlehem history, lifted from the 1886 Biographical and Historical Record of Wayne and Appanoose Counties, Iowa.

There's a wonderful map on the wall of Bethlehem Chapel, showing who lived where over the years, and a couple of snapshots have been placed behind its protective glass, too. These are the images interspersed here.

Downtown Bethlehem, as remembered ca. 1972.

"Bethlehem is one of the oldest points in Wayne County. It was platted June 6, 1853, by Columbus and Martha Parr. Morgan Parr & Sons built a saw-mill here in 1855. Benjamin Parker was the first merchant and Columbus Parr, the first postmaster. In 1857, Bethlehem was a good town.

Store building, dated 1914. I believe I.O.O.F. lodge rooms were located upstairs.

"William McCarty was merchant and stockdealer, the saw-mill was in full operation (though removed the following year), Dr. L.D. McKinley was practicing medicine. Drs. John Boswell, William Prather and Dr. Townsend were all early physicians here.

Roof repairs under way at the Methodist Church.

"In that year, 1857 (or 1858), the different denominations partly built a church, which was used by them jointly until 1861, when the Methodists purchased it and completed it. This building remained in use until 1885, when it was sold and the Methodists and Baptists united in remodeling the Baptist church, which was built in 1865. Revs. Swim and Coiner were early Methodist preachers, and Rev. Bolster is well remembered by the Baptists.

"Eli Hammer kept the first 'tavern' for several years. A steam saw and grist mill was built in 1875 and operated intermittently until the fall of 1885, when it burned.

Store building, dated 1900.

"In 1867, the farmers of Union Township organized the Union Township Agricultural Association, and held two very successful exhibitions in the autumns of 1867 and 1868 at Bethlehem.

"Louis Protzman is the present merchant, and William King postmaster."

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Credit for naming Bethlehem --- and the nearby Jordan River for that matter --- probably should go to Morgan Parr, who also was a Campbellite peacher and reportedly led the first church services in the neighborhood in his log cabin home during the early 1850s.

He was instrumental in organizing what was called the Joint-Stock Church in 1857 or 1858, acquiring  a lot to build the building shared by all denominations from my old friend Eli Hammer --- Bethlehem's first inn-keeper (Eli ended his days in Russell, north of Bethlehem on the Transformer road). First Christian Church at Bethlehem was not organized officially until 1901, however, and its building --- torn down in 1938 --- was dedicated during 1903.

Here's a little story from The Humeston New Era of Feb. 11, 1920, that contains more information about the source of the name, Bethlehem. Credit for some of Wayne County's charming place-names --- Bethlehem, Confidence and Promise City among them --- occasionally is given to Mormon pioneers, some of whom did indeed pass this way after the "middle" route to Garden Grove was blazed ca. 1849. But they were headed west and really didn't stick around long enough to name anything.

HOW BETHLEHEM WAS NAMED

"The Sunday Des Moines Register in giving an account of the naming of different towns in Iowa, printed the following regarding the naming of the town of Bethlehem in this county. Some of our older citizens perhaps know better than we do whether the account is correction or largely fiction. Here's the story:

"The village of Bethlehem was so named by one Morgan Parr, who had the town surveyed and was said to be the first man who preached in the place. He built a dwelling house in the year 1852 where the first religious services were held and the same building still stands and is occupied by E.E. Mumma and family. It is still a comfortable dwelling house.

"Mr. Parr named the town Bethlehem and organized the Christian church. There is a creek a mile and a half west of the town and when he would take a convert into the church he would say, "Let us go down to the Jordan for baptism," which originated the name of the stream. The first postmaster's name was Columbus Parr, a son of Morgan and Anna Parr. At that time they received their mail once a week, and the mail was all put in one box which could be carried under his arm."

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I should add that the old Dry Flat School bell, which summoned me to classes from primary through second grade, hangs in the Bethlehem Chapel steeple. I was going to give it a ring on my way out Friday, then got preoccupied with making sure the door was secure --- and forgot. There's a project for another day.