How Original Settlement Provided Volunteer
That Bondsmen Might Be Freed.
By A. Schernekau

Landing in New York on March 24, 1857, I came direct to that Mecca of all Schleswig-Hosteiners--Davenport, Iowa. I found that my cousin, Fred Hedde, had procured work for me on the farm of Mr. Rusch, near Davenport. He himself had left a few days previously with a party of Germans for the Platte River Valley in Nebraska. It was his desire for me to remain at work on the farm to acclimate myself before undertaking the trip into the western wilderness.

Mr. Hedde returned in the fall to Davenport and in the spring of 1858 the trip overland, to Council Bluffs, was undertaken. We were a small train of perhaps seven wagons in all, drawn by oxen. Owning to an unusually late and wet season we had to undergo many hardships in crossing the numerous swollen streams, bridges being either swept away or standing in the wide bottoms, all approaches to them being covered with water and only to be reached by wading and swimming, holding to an ox-bow while driving, and grinding your team through the raging waters to the bridge.

But, after long delays and much waiting for the waters to subside, we reached Omaha. From there we took the "military road" only lately surveyed up the valley of the Platte. Here we found a few substantially built bridges, erected by the government, over the Papilion Creek and the Elkhorn River. Our traveling was better up the valley. Only the ingsignificant "Prairie Creek" caused us some trouble in crossing the same, as the bottoms were very soft. I will here suggest to the indulgent reader of these notes to imagine a lot of green immigrants from Europe, unacquainted with the country, with its customs, and even, to a large extent, with its language. It was really not an easy task that these men and women had before them. But, young and strong, and with great hopes of a brilliant future, we struggled on. In July--I have not the exact date on hand--we finally reached the settlement.

Cottonwood As Basis

We found four double log houses built and occupied by the colonists who had preceded us. The houses had been built with a view of defense, in case of an Indian attack, being provided with loop-holes for musketry, the cattle to be corralled in the space left between them, the houses themselves forming part of the enclosure.

The town of "Grand Island" had been surveyed and also the "claims" of the settlers. Each one of the latter wishing to have some land close to the "city limits" it was decided that forty-acre tracts should by laid out all around the town, touching with one side of the city limits. These tracts were then, by lot, distributed to the original colonists who had come in '57. The strip of timber on the island in the north channel of the Platte were surveyed, similarly in twenty acre [sic] lots, and "drawn for" of chosen by lot, among the immigrants, as for the forty-acre pieces. As no government survey had been made this survey started from a big dead cottonwood tree on an island in the river, near the northeast corner of the town.

Ditches and sod walls in place of fences had been constructed by the industrious and hard-working people, but were afterwards abandoned, partly as being only imaginary lines and partly because they did not give satisfaction as permanent enclosures. The sod did not grow but, with the sandy soil and the burning by the hot rays of the summer sun, the disintegration was soon almost complete.

The only houses in the town proper, as laid out, were two log structures with double roofs--one put up by Mr. Hagge and the other, I believe, for Mr. Hedde, who soon afterward moved to his claim, on the west side of town as then laid out. Land had been broken up on the different claims of the settlers and corn planted; but little was raised this season owing to the fact that the cattle got in and destroyed the crops. The season being so unusually wet there was a rank growth of grass all over the bottom, such as I don not remember ever having seen since. In doing our work we were always more or less wet, going through he sloughs filled with water, or through the long grass. The result was that most of us had attacks of fever or ague during the summer. I was one of the last to be taken ill--we were mowing slough grass and binding the same into sheaves to thatch the house of Mr. Hedde, at the time.

The roofs of some of the first cabins, made of cottonwood bark, did not answer the purpose at all. Thatch was therefore substituted as roofing material.

Learned What Fires Were

A rather pleasant winter from 1859 to 1860 brought a disastrous prairie fire--I think in January of the latter year. By this fire most of our provisions were burned, which again almost rendered the little community to the famine conditions that had prevailed in the first winter when provisions from Omaha failed to arrive in time. This year, however, the general government stepped in and prevented extreme suffering by sending us a month's rations for thirty men.

How little we knew the nature of and therefore how little we at first feared the prairie fire will be illustrated by the following: I was at the time living with Mr. Hedde, west of the "town" limits. the day was bright and pleasant. We saw, about noon, the long lines of the flames of a prairie fire below the settlement--that is the four double log houses built by the first settlers. It was suggested after dinner that I hitch up--that was putting the ox team to the farm wagon which had to do duty as a runabout--and drive Mrs. Hedde down to get a good view of the fire. We did not realize the danger and in what short time it would be upon us. Before we had gone far the fire had reached the houses and we had to hasten down there, to help, if possible.

The next year I had my own land and was building a small cabin, 12 x 16 feet. I broke land and planted corn and regarded myself as having reached my ideal--a real cabin and 160 acres of land which I could call my

own. This land was located west of Mr. Hedde's and Mr. Stolley's, west of the original town of Grand Island, and a part of it is now occupied as a site for a beet sugar factory. While I was living on this land the war broke out.

Were Abolitionists

In common with a very great majority of the Germans who had come to the countty in the previous years, I was an ardent abolitionist and the desire to assist in the carrying out of these views as well as the sense of duty to my adopted country, led me to enlist. When the first regiment of infantry was raised in Nebraska my afairs at the farm were in such shape that it was impossible for me to join the same. In the fall of the year, however, when a second call was made to fill up the depleted ranks of the regiment and Hall Cjounty came in with two men for her share, I concluded that I would be one of them. In a meeting one Sunday, at Schuler's, I came forward as a recruit to represent Hall County as one of her quota and Jack--(I have forgotten his name) volunteered also but for some reason or other he did not go to the front. In October, 1862, I enlisted at Nebraska City where the recruiting officers were stationed, and in a few weeks found myself at the front, joining the regiment when it was on the Black River, in Missouri.

There followed three years of a soldier's life with such experiences and incidents as such a life brought to thousands during these years. I was wounded while on the White River in Arkansas, came back to Grand Island on sick leave, and finally joined my regiment again, which had again been recruited up and reorganized and sent to fight the Indians on the plains. While at home on a furlough we had our miniature "Indian war" at Grand Island. The "O. K." store, the big log building, was fortified by building a big sod wall with bastions on the four corners around the same large enough to hold wagons and cattle of the settlers flocking in from all sides for protection.

General Curtis coming up from Omaha with an expedition to protect the Overland road left with us a six-pounder field piece, with ammunition. We had no occasion ever to use the cannon, neither was our "fort" attacked. The settlement proper never was molested, the Indians probably being aware of our preparations. We were, however, in my opinion, very lucky not to be attacked by the red-skins at that time, as our guns were very indifferent, consisting of all kinds of rifles, some shotguns, a few government muskets (condemned), and a great number of all makes of revolvers. The greatest trouble was the lack of proper ammunition for all of these arms. Though half an invalid I was at that time able to ride a horse and with several others of the young unmarried men of the settlement, had to patrol the country northwest and east of us. We never got a glimpse of the hostiles but frequently found signs where they had been.

Pleasure Midst Hardships

After being discharged from the service, in 1865, I went back to my farm, selling my first claim west of town. This time I took up another piece of land, east of the old site where, with the help of my neighbors, I erected a double log house under one roof made of slough grass. Lumber and shingles were yet almost unknown in the little community. A few boards were required for doors, and door and window casings were whipsawed out of cottonwood logs and it was hard and particular work.

Old Frederick Vatje is made to say, in our friend Sass's immortal "long song" (dat Lange Lied):

So stuen he in de Sagkuhl
And sae; de Audern sind man ful."

Yes, with all of our hardships and the hard work we performed, often under the greatest of disadvantages--because being green, new emigrants, we could not be expected to understand and did not understand the life and work on the frontier--we yet had a great deal of amusement among ourselves especially among those of us who kept "bachelor's hall." The names of Sass, Schaf, Nagel, Menck, and others only need to be mentioned to awaken in the old settlers the recollection of many jolly incidents.

Much hard and useless work was performed in the first years. I will only mention, for instance, the wall and ditch fences (a remnant of one of these preserved by trees planted on the same may today be seen on the section line road due south of Grand Island, just before one reaches the first channel of the Platte--EDITOR) and the clearing up of allotted wooded portions of the Island. At least Fred Vatje did work diligently to grub out underbrush, etc., so as to give the young growing trees a better chance to thrive. Others, like myself, planted trees and wild shrubs on their land, but with very little success. Not until Mr. Stolley came and went systematically at it were there many trees growing.

Trouble With Railroad Contractors

With the advent of the Overland railroad (Union Pacific) the settlers had another war on their hands. This time it was with the gangs of workman sent out ahead, before the actual construction of the roadbed began. Contracts had been let to deliver ties and firewood along the line of road. The timber growing along the river, mostly on the islands in the same, was claimed by such of us as had land adjacent to the channel, we presuming that the survey would not meander along the narrow north channel of the river. But as no government survey had been made this was in doubt. The railroad, interested in securing all the timber in the region with which to construct as much of the track as possible, instructed its men to cut down all the timber. That which was unfit for ties was to be cut into cordwood. As our protests were not heeded we were advised by our counsel in Omaha to arrest the men engaged in cutting and hauling away the timber. The sheriff swore in a number of deputies, we arrested simultaneously a number of choppers and teamsters only to have them at once released on bonds given by the bosses, and the trees were cut as before. The robbing us of the timber that should have been protected and would for years have been good for a supply of firewood was one of the causes which eventually led me to emigrate to a country where there was a natural supply of fuel, without shipment.

End Of Local Experiences

Before I carried this out, however, I made a trip back to Germany, returning in June, 1868, to Grand Island. While in the Father-land I was married and brought back Mrs. Schernekau with me. At that time the Union and Central Pacific were making great exertions to complete the overland route to California. Everything was high and in great demand at the front, while the actual work of building was going on. Camps and little towns sprang up at the temporary termini of the roads, and they needed, we were informed, among other things, a supply of milk. Our intention to emigrate west was again stimulated by these reports and in the spring of '70 just after the golden spike had been driven near Ogden, we set out on our long trip. We had, together, a herd of some twenty milch cows. Cheyenne was our objective point. And here end[s] my experiences and recollections of the pioneer days of Grand Island.