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| Dan Baker |
Chariton Leader editor Dan Baker, back in late May 1875, loaded his family aboard a westbound passenger train at the C.B.&Q. Depot and headed out on an excursion into southwest Iowa's Montgomery and Fremont counties to visit old friends, go fishing --- and make mental notes that enabled him to entertain his subscribers with detailed reports when he returned.
What follows is the first of those reports, headlined "Out on the Road and among the Grasshoppers," published in The Leader of June 12. It's typical Dan Baker and I think you'll enjoy it.
Take note, too, of two of the old friends he encountered along the way. "D. Remick, the banker," is Brig. Gen. David Remick --- introduced to you on Monday in a post entitled "Brig. Gen. David Remick, a pony, a colt and Chariton." By now David had left the lumber business behind, remarried and launched a new (and successful) phase of his career as a banker and entrepreneur in southwest Iowa, then Nebraska and finally California.
"Old Buckskin Tracy" was Perry B. Tracy --- one of those great characters known then from one end of the south of Iowa to the other as a driving force in the Western Stagecoach Co. before the Burlington & Missouri River Railroad made that business obsolete in the years after the Civil War as it was extended west to the Missouri River. I'll have more to say about Mr. Tracy another day.
In the meantime, here's Dan's report of encounters along the way as he traveled through southwest Iowa in early summer, 1875:
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On Saturday, the 29th ult., we threw aside dull care and boarded the train at this place for Villisca on a tour of fun, rest and observation. After passing over some of Iowa's rugged hills and smiling valleys we arrived at the pleasant village of Villisca, where we found our old Hoosier friend, Isaac Bolt, of Sciola, awaiting with a rig to carry us to his home on the Nodaway bottom, nine miles north of Villisca.
Next day being Sunday, we devoted to looking at the rich fields and improvements of that splendid country. Twelve years before, we had seen it almost a wilderness, and now we found it a thickly settled country with land held at almost fabulous prices, with but few buyers and the same number of sellers. The country, however, is hard to beat in soil or water and fully justifies round prices for land.
After spending a day or two in running around through the bottom enquiring for the best place to fish without going to the trouble to find out by experience, we started on Wednesday in company with John Bolt for the famous city of Red Oak.
We were agreeably surprised on arriving there to see the numerous improvements she has made in the last eight years and felt very much like congratulating her on her enterprise, but we abandoned the idea after we had interviewed a few of her knowing citizens. We verily believe that three-fourths of the residents of that city don't know that there is any other place one earth where a man can live outside of Red Oak and its vicinity.
It was exceedingly amusing to us to witness the patronizing air with which we were greeted when we tremblingly informed one of the natives that we resided in Chariton. "In Chariton? Ah, quite a little town, I hear, but not so large as Red Oak," would be the lofty reply. "Oh, yes, larger," we quietly replied. "What? Larger than Red Oak?" and the look of astonishment and pity that he would bestow upon us was awful to behold. "Well, of course you haven't as large a population" would be the next lofty assumption. "Yes, larger," said we gravely, and then the look of indignation and disgust which we received from our outraged interrogator was simply indescribable.
But Red is really a good business point and is in the heart of the richest soil and best land that lies west of the Mississippi river. Town property is held at enormous prices, and better still is sold at such prices.
"Old Buckskin Tracy," so well known to the people of Chariton as a stage agent, showed us thirty-two and a half feet of vacant ground on the southwest corner of the square which he sold a short time since for $3,500.
While here we met with a few familiar faces, among them were D. Remick, the banker, and Mr. Tracy, the old stage line agent. We visited the two potteries of the city which are turning out an immense amount of crockery and doing a thriving business. We also paid our respects to Mr. D. S. Stiger, editor of The Record, and found him a pleasant, agreeable gentleman and doing a flourishing business. He is running an independent newspaper with some strong Democratic proclivities.
Next day, after our trip to Red Oak, having shipped our better half and orphans home, we took the train for Hamburg twenty-nine miles southwest, in Fremont county. The road was all the way down the Nishnabotna river, and without exaggeration passes through the finest country we ever saw anywhere; a perfect earthly paradise, if winter did not last too long. Arriving at Hamburg in the night, we stopped at the Metropolitan Hotel until morning and then sought the residence of our old Lucas county friend, F. Devore. A heavy rain had fallen during the night, consequently the city was a little damp. After walking down Main street nearly a mile we found our destination and then prepared for a stroll.
Hamburg is the longest town we've seen in a good while and looks as though it will stretch through both Iowa and Missouri. It lies in as lovely a valley as we ever saw, and is between the Missouri and the Nishnabotna, the latter being near its eastern suburbs and the former about three miles west, at the nearest point. A high sand ridge ascends upon the west side so that a man can climb it and see all of God's creation for twenty miles around without straining his eyesight.
There is an immense quantity of timber in every direction while lakes, creeks, springs, bayous and rivers can be seen in every direction, presenting a most enchanting landscape scenery. From the pinnacle of this high ridge we saw Nebraska City, Otoe City, Percyville and Watson, scattered through the states of Iowa, Nebraska and Missouri.
The town of Hamburg is splendidly situated for manufacturing purposes, and has several mills, factories, and one of the best breweries in Iowa. We account for the brewery from the fact that the county is Democratic. We paid all of them a visit and even sampled the beer at the brewery, in order to be able to judge of its merit. The proprietors showed us through their premises and explained the noble art of making the necessaries of life. They had four hundred barrels of beer on hand and shipped at the rate of two thousand five hundred gallons a week.
After seeing all the public places of interest, we strolled out to see the grasshoppers, and we can safely say that we saw them. There were a few thousand million of them, but not enough in our opinion to do a great deal of harm, although we noticed several fields of small grain, some cornfields and gardens that they had stripped pretty successfully. Owing to the cold rains and the backward spring, they have been seriously retarded in their depredations and will prepare, a soon as they get wings, to visit pastures green elsewhere, which will be sometime next month. Then the people of western Iowa may expect a slight scald from the voracious insections, but from our extensive acquaintance with the little pests in Montana, we are inclined to the belief that they will not do any very serious damage in Iowa this year, and even then their ravages will be confined to stripping the corn, as small grain will be out of their reach before they are ready to fly.
Having renewed our old acquaintance with the grasshoppers, we next prepared to go fishing, the particulars of which we will tell about some other time.
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