JOHN BLUNT FAMILY IN '52
Family Arrived On The Present Site of Charles City in 1852
And Lived In A Tent - Later Built Log House
Many Experiences In Early Days Given By Mrs. Kiess (Keyes
A Daughter of The Settler.
John Blunt and family came from Wisconsin to Iowa to live in April, 1852, and were therefore the first actual settlers of Charles City. Mrs. Dorcas Blunt-Kiess, to whom I am indebted for the accompanying reminiscences, was the third daughter of Mr. Blunt and quite a small girl at the time of their moving. Said she: "Camping out of nights, six teams were required to convey the family and its belongings to this state. When we reached West Union where the parents of my mother lived, we stopped for a few days both to visit and to recuperate. Incidentally, we took advantage of the time to do the family washing and to mend our clothes which had unavoidably been subjected to rather rough usage. It should be borne in mind that we were not journeying on palace cars or putting up at hotels with modern conveniences. Ours was a constant struggle against primeval nature which, as might befit its whim, would one day envelope us in clouds of dust, and the next, treat us to showers of rain and consequent mud till it was almost impossible to tell the texture of one's garments. Illustrative of our experiences, I might cite the instance of our crossing the Wapsipinicon. As heretofore stated, we had six wagons along, aside from our cattle and swine. We found the river very high and over-flowing its banks for a considerable distance. To reach the main channel we were therefore forced to wade or drive through water waist deep. Neither ferry nor bridge was in evidence, while the channel was enough to have submerged a good-sized house. Finally a couple of dug-outs were brought into requisition by nailing boards across them till they were made to serve as one craft. Then one of the teamsters picked up one end of an improvised cable which had been formed out of two clothes lines twisted together, and swam to the opposite shore where he fastened it around a tree, the other end being attached to one of the heaviest wagons. Following this move, each wagon was successfully unloaded as fast as the little craft could carry the effects to the opposite bank. Next, the wagon boxes were taken over in the same way, but the wagons themselves, which were too clumsy to be thus managed, were pulled in succession thro' the seething brown waters by the use of ropes. The last to come over were the horses, cattle and swine which were made to swim at a more favorable point farther down stream.
The whole day had thus been consumed without taking time to eat. It was therefore coming twilight when the men, tired and hungry and wet through to the skin, were ready to partake of the bountiful supper our mother had provided. You see, she and we children had been ferried across earlier in the day. That night it rained again, and when I awoke in the morning I found myself lying in the middle of a puddle of water which had stolen into the tent in the form of a rivulet--not a very encouraging experience for one who had been suffering of rheumatism since babyhood, and from which I have never recovered."
"The date of the arrival of the family on the ground where Charles City has since grown was the 17th day of May, 1852. There being no house here whatever, the family lived in a tent while one was being built. It was a sort of log structure with clapboards for a roof and bark for the floor. Later on, however, the bark which had only been intended as a temporary make-shift, was supplanted by puncheons split from the bodies of logs. The building stood on the east side of the river, which is marked by the corner of Joslyn and Hulin streets, and for some time afterwards was used as a hotel as well as for a residence. The first store building in Charles City was also constructed and owned by Father, it's location being on the same site as is now occupied by the Union House. I do not remember to whom it was sold. Besides the farm now occupied two miles north of town by the widow of Hezekiah Blunt, who was my eldest brother, Father owned a large tract of land adjoining the city as the north. It included the property now occupied by the Hart-Parr Company, as well as all of this part of the town, my own home and that of Charles Kelly, inclusive. Still more, the land once owned by Maxwell Ireland and David Pettit out on the Rockford road (the latter best known as the Danforth farm, and recently purchased by the Sherman Nursery Company) was at one time the property of my Father. In fact, I remember when a little girl seeing him pay a stranger for it in gold. And oh, how beautiful that money looked to me! In connection with our other business we farmed or less not long after coming here. I bear in mind too that the first ground broken by Father was along the site of the Hart-Parr Works. He held the plow while another man drove the oxen. Following them came Hezekiah with an ax, cutting holes through every third furrow of sod into which I dropped the corn, my sister Lydia bringing up the rear and closing the incisions by tramping upon them with her feet. Sometimes Lydia and I exchanged places, and when it happened that our proximity to "Kier" and the ax were too close for safety we would use that as an excuse to site down and rest."
"The surveyors who laid out the town of Freeman on the West Side boarded with us. A younger sister and I were frequently sent to notify them when dinner was ready, and in doing so it was necessary to wade the river. On the particular day I have in mind, the men were at work just beyond the Waverly Hill. Going up to the apex where their wagon stood, we beckoned them to come, but their work being such that they could not drop it on the minute, we climbed upon the wagon and sat down by Hezekiah. The delay caused Mother to send Lydia to find out the cause. Receiving an explanation, she too climbed to the seat, sitting on the extreme end. Just then the rest of us discovered something running through the grass, and accordingly jumped up to see what it might be. The result was, that the other end of that seat tilted and precipitated Lydia to the ground, causing her to shriek with pain. The men then came in a hurry. After making a cursory examination, however, they came to the mistaken conclusion that the injury she had sustained was nothing worse than a simple dislocation of the elbow, and accordingly pulled it back into place (as they thought) but for a long time thereafter the injury continued painful and the arm swollen. She was finally taken to the nearest doctor for examination, (he resided at West Union) but not in time to prevent her having a stiff arm for the rest of her life, as her elbow had been badly fractured. And thus ended the well meaning intentions of a trio of amateur surgeons."
"There were many Indians about in those days, whom I regarded with fear, and as being nuisances. To say the least they were consummate beggars, and not averse to purloining things when the owner was not looking. Father kept whiskey in the house which seemed to attract them in about the same degree as molasses does flies. When drunk they were absolutely dangerous, and Father early learned that it was unsafe to hand out a bottle at the beck of the savage. One day when he and Mother both happened to be away from home, a big Indian appeared at the door for something, the nature of which we could not understand any better than he seemed to comprehend English. Standing about the puncheon floor in mortal terror lest our time had come, we girls were ready to give that savage everything in the house were he but good enough to let us live. Finally with an outward sweep of the hand from the base of the neck to the lower part of the abdomen, accompanied by the words, 'heap big man,' it dawned upon us that he wanted to see Father. But he not being in town, I was sent out in quest of Mother, or for anyone else who might be able to interpret the Indian's wants. On my way, I kept looking back over my shoulder to see if that awful savage was pursuing me with a tomahawk. My search not being successful, the unwelcome caller departed with a dissatisfied grunt. That evening after Father's return, we with eyes protruding, related our narrow escape from a horrible death; but somehow or other he did not seem very much impressed, and chuckled a little as he sat down to supper. However, at about then o'clock that night he was called to the door by the unusual barking of the dogs. Peering through the night's shadow, he thought he saw a human form dodge behind a tree. 'Get out of there, you prowler, or I'll know the reason why," exclaimed Father, making a movement as if to get his gun. "Me wants whiskey--heap whiskey!' explained the Indian, coming out from his hiding, 'squaw big toothache sick," holding his hand to his jaw and groaning. "Don't lie to me," responded Father suspiciously, for the indications were that the encampment had been reveling in firewater, obtained from no one knew where, for the past two days. "Me no lie," plead the Indian contritely, 'squaw heap sick, heap cry." He was then given a cup of the real stuff with a warning, and when he returned the empty vessel the next morning he averred that the 'squaw was heap better,' but we always had our suspicions as to that."
"Yes, I was present at the marriage of my sister Roxanna to William Flint, which was the first wedding ceremony performed in Floyd county. The two got acquainted at Bradford where the family found it necessary to put up for a few days, succeeding its visit at West Union. It was a case of mutual love at first sight, and, as I have good reason to believe, never waned up to the time of the couple's death. What stopped us at Bradford was the high water in the Cedar river. There being no road to this place on the east side at the time, Father, with one team and three or four men, was thereby compelled to cut his way through the forest and swamps, occupying four days in so doing. When the family and the other teams were ready to come, William Flint joined them and assisted in constructing our home, the first one in the city, and designated by the early pioneers as the 'log tavern.' It was two years later that the marriage took place in that same building, having been performed by Judge Lyon of Chickasaw county, February 12Th, 1854. The witnesses of the affair consisted of the member of the family, the regular boarders, and an itinerant peddler who had been snowbound here for several days back. The garments worn by the contracting pair were in no wise elaborate. My sister, as I remember, wore a new delane dress and a pair of white kid gloves that came far up on the arms. And right here let me tell you about the joke that went with those gloves. Having heard through some of the boarders that a wedding was in prospect, the peddler said to Roxanna in a bantering way, that 'if she would get married while he was here he would make her a present of the finest pair of kid gloves in his outfit,' never dreaming that the ceremony was so near at hand. Roxanna straightway accepted the banter, and, as before indicated, the gloves of the peddler were worn at her wedding. The couple resided here for many years succeeding their marriage, where most of their children were born. In subsequent years, however, they moved to Glenelder, Kansas, the groom dying in 1901, and the bride somewhat later."
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"John Green, who if not the first, was at least the second child born in this county. He was my nephew and the son of my eldest sister who was married to Mr. Green back in Wisconsin previous to their moving here."
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"Father died at his home in this city not two blocks east of this residence (some four blocks northeast of the Hart-Parr Works) April 29th, 1880, aged 68 years. Mother survived him quite a good many years, but finally passed away at the home of my youngest brother Charles who moved back to Wisconsin some years before."
