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Pages 367-375
THE ERA OF OUTLAWRY
PREFATORY
About the confines of American
civilization, there has always hovered, like scouts before the
march of an invading army, a swarm of bold, enterprising,
adventurous criminals. The broad, untrodden prairies, the
trackless forests, the rivers, unbroken by the keels of
commerce, furnished admirable refuge for those whose crimes
drove them from companionship with the honest and law abiding.
Hovering there, where courts and civil processes could afford
but a weak bulwark of protection against their evil and
dishonest purposes and practices, the temptation to prey upon
the comparatively unprotected sons of toil, rather than to gain
a livelihood by the slow process of honest industry, has proved
too strong to be resisted. Some of these reckless characters
sought the outskirts of advancing settlements for the express
purpose of theft and robbery; some because they dare not remain
within reach of efficient laws; others, of limited means, but
ambitious to secure homes of their own, and with honesty of
purpose, exchanged the comforts and protection of law afforded
by the old, settled and populous districts for life on the
frontiers, and not finding all that their fancy painted, were
tempted into crime by apparent immunity from punishment. In all
new countries, the proportion of the dishonest and criminal has
been greater than in the older and better regulated communities
where courts are permanently established and the avenues of
escape from punishment for wrong-doing wore securely guarded.
When white people first began to enter
upon and possess the Cedar River
country, there were but two counties organized west of the
Mississippi River, even to the Pacific Ocean, if we except the
counties of Missouri. These two counties were Dubuque and Des
Moines. They extended from the flag staff at Fort Armstrong back
into the country forty miles, and from the Missouri State line
northward to a line running westward from Prairie du Chien. It
was a vast scope of country, and afforded secure hiding places
for outlaws and desperadoes. When the rich prairies,
beautiful forests and magnificent valleys began to attract
honest immigration, human vultures followed in the rear or
settled down in the midst of the industrious, toiling pioneers,
to prey upon their substance, well knowing that, by reason of
the unorganized condition of society, there would be comparative
freedom and immunity from detection and punishment.
In 1837. the country began to be
flooded with counterfeit money—in fact,
says our informant, there was more counterfeit money than there
was of good. Occasionally—and the occasions were rather more
frequent than angels’ visits—a horse would be stolen. No one
could tell where the counterfeit money came from nor where the
stolen horse was hidden. At last, horse stealing became so
general and was so successfully prosecuted that when a farmer
missed a horse from his stable or pasture, he never hunted for
him beyond a half mile from his premises. It was useless, the
gang was so well organized, and had such a perfect system of
stations, agents, signs and signals.
Early in 1837 or
1838, a number of persons settled in Cedar County, whose habits
and practices gave rise to the suspicion that they belonged to a
regularly organized gang of law breakers, horse thieves and
counterfeiters. They had no visible means of support, and were
almost constantly coming and going, wore good clothes—that is to
say, they dressed better than the honest, tolling farm makers -
had plenty of money, and were ready at all times and on all
occasions to pay their way. When the young men and women—the
sons and daughters of the settlers—got up a ball, these
suspected parties, at least the unmarried portion of them,
sought to "run things” according to their own notions, and at
last became so overbearing and dictatorial that, as a measure of
self-protection, the scions of the pioneers found it necessary
to Choose as managers of their Terpsichorean entertainments the
strongest and most athletic of their number to do the
fighting—the “knocking down and dragging out” of the domineering
young pirates, who generally carried their revolvers wherever
they went.
These people were shrewd, cunning and
secret in their business maneuvers. To their immediate neighbors
they were obliging, kind and charitable, where charity was
needed. They wore an outward garb of respectability, and so
hedged themselves as to escape detection and exposure for many
years.
Personale Of The
Freebooters.
Among the representative men of these
bold plunderers were Squires, Conlogue, James
Stoutenburg alias James Case and Christian
Gove. Squires lived in Iowa Township. Conlogue first settled
at Gower's (Cedar Bluffs) Ferry, but subsequently moved across
the county line and settled in Johnson County, near what is now
Morse Station. Stoutenburg alias Case was an unmarried
man, and divided his time between the houses of Squires and
Conlogue, as best suited his convenience and the purposes of
those with whom he was connected and associated. Gove was also
an unmarried man, and while Conlogue managed Gower's Ferry,
worked for and made his home with him. Besides these men,
there were a number of others of equally suspicious character.
Some of them lived in Cedar County, and others lived on the
borders of the adjoining counties.Besides those above named, there was a
man named McBroom—a keen, shrewd, cunning fellow, with some
knowledge of law - who was always present to defend such members
of the gang as found themselves in the “clutches” of the law.
McBroom came here from Illinois, and was regarded as a very
dangerous character, and a “member in good standing" with the
unworthy fraternity.John Brodie and
his four sons—John, Stephen, William and Hugh—came to the
country in 1839, and were among the early settlers in Linn
County. They were natives of Ohio, and commenced their career of
villainy in that State as much as fifty years ago. Somewhere
about 1830 or 1832, they were driven from the Clear Fork of the
Mohican River, in Richland (now Ashland) County, and sought
refuge in Steuben County, Ind., for two or three years, where
they became so notorious as to arouse the entire country against
them, and in 1835 they were forced to quit the country and flee
westward. In the year last named, they found their way to the
Rock River (Illinois) country, and settled at what came to be
known as Brodie’s Grove in Dement Township, Ogle County. At that
time, that region of country was completely under the power and
dominion of outlaws and desperadoes, and there, for a time, they
found congenial companionship and associations.At last, however, the honest people
organized themselves as Vigilantes or Regulators, as a measure
of self-protection; and, in 1839, the Brodie brood was bought
out, and warned to leave the country. They accordingly left
there at once, and came to Linn County, where their houses
became refuges and hiding places for their accomplices in crime
and villainy. For a number of years after the Brodies came to
Linn County, there was scarcely a term of the court in which
some of the family were not arraigned for trial, on the charge
of horse stealing.
Sam
Literel and Jo Leverich were
said to be members of the gang; and, if not actively engaged in
horse stealing, their homes and houses were resorted to by those
who were.
This gang
operated over a large scope of country, and with so many members
located in Cedar County, such secure hiding places, and so many
of the gang coming and going, it is but little wonder that the
people came to live in constant fear and dread. But the villains
worked so cautiously and secretly as to be almost past finding
out. Horse stealing became so common that a man who owned a good
horse never presumed to leave him over night in an unlocked
stable, and, in many instance, farmers and horse owners slept in
their stables with their rifles by their sides. The time came,
however, when the gang planned and undertook the perpetration of
a robbery that aroused honest people throughout the country, and
caused the immediate organization of a protective association,
and the visitation of quick and summary punishment upon several
of the Cedar River Buccaneers.
THE GOUDY ROBBERY
In 1839, John Goudy, a married son and
a son-in-law, Thomas McElheny,
settled just over the Cedar County line in Linn, being equally
well known and respected among the people of both counties. The
senior Goudy was a man of considerable means, and among the
majority of the settlers of the county, was reported to he very
wealthy. In April, 1840, it was noised about that he had about
nine thousand dollars in his house, which report at once aroused
the cupidity and avarice of the gang, and they determined to
possess themselves of the treasure. As a preliminary measure,
Henry E. Switzer, who lived on
a claim about seven miles southeast of Tipton, was sent on a
visit to Goudy's home, about the 1st of April, 1840, under the
pretense of wanting to borrow some money to pay for his land.
The real object, however, was to acquaint himself with the
arrangement of the premises where the money was kept, in case he
succeeded in making the loan, and taking such other observations
as would facilitate the thieves in their work of robbery. Either
because Mr. Goudy did not have the money, or for want of
confidence in Switzer's honesty and ability to pay, the loan was
declined. In other respects, Switzer learned enough to enable
him to report the situation to his accomplices, and on the 14th
of April the gang started from Conlogue’s on their plundering
and murderous mission. They passed up the west side of Cedar
River to a point above Goudy's, and then crossed over and
started leisurely in the direction of Goudy's. Between the
point where they crossed the river and their point of
destination, they were met by a settler who recognized Conlogue
and had some conversation with him, when the different parties went their respective
ways. From the fact that Conlogue was not with the gang when they entered Goudys residence,
and that he
afterward showed his whereabouts on that night, it is believed
that he left his
companions in villainy, after being recognized, and went to
Gower’s Ferry,
where he remained over night, for the express purpose of being
able to prove an
alibi, and thus avoid identification as a participant in a
robbery, the proceeds of which he afterward admitted he shared. At the hour of 11 o’clock
on the
night of the 14th of April, the doors of the Goudy cabin were
forced open, and
the inmates awoke to find themselves in the presence and power
of five desperadoes. The cabin had only one room and a shed-kitchen at the
side from the
road. In the main room were two beds. One of these was occupied
by Mr. Goudy and his wife, and the other one by the son-in-law, McElheny,
and his
wife. One of the robbers covered Mr. Goudy with his rifle,
another one stood
guard over McElheny and his wife, and a third one stopped the
clock. The
wife of Judge Shane, a daughter of Goudy, was a girl then, but
remembers the
circumstance with remarkable precision, and to her the reader is
indebted for the most of these details. The man who stood over
her father demanded his money,
threatening that if its whereabouts were not revealed, they
would kill the entire
household. Mr. Goudy replied that he had but little, only $40,
which he had
saved to buy some hogs, and that they would find that in his
vest pocket. The
vest was searched and the amount found. The old man protested that it was every dollar he had,
or that
there was about the house. The leader of the gang then ordered
the house to
be searched, and directed the occupants of the beds to cover
their heads at once,
so as, it is supposed, to prevent the family from recognizing
any of their number - especially Switzer, who had been there
only a few days before under the pretext of wanting to borrow
money with which to enter his land.
In the
excitement, the girl Hannah had got out of her own sleeping
place (probably a
trundle bed), and crawled under the bed occupied by her sister.
Paying no
attention to the order to “cover up,” Hannah sought to climb
into bed with her
sister, and, in doing so, climbed over the knees of one of the
ruffians who was sitting by the side of the McElheny bed. By
this time a
brighter light had
been raised, and as the girl got upon her sister's bed, the
clothes were so raised
that Mrs. McElheny could see the faces of the villains, and she
recognized
Switzer, and whispered to her husband: “That is Switzer, the man
who was
here the other day to borrow money.” The husband admonished her
to be still, or they would all be killed. " Why, it is Switzer, and that other
fellow is ____ ____," who was also known to the family.
The search commenced. Boxes, barrels, trunks, drawers and
pockets were
ransacked, but with little success. At last a flour barrel was
upset and its contents scattered out on the floor, and with it a
purse containing $120, belonging to the girl Hannah, who had
saved it from the change given her by her father from time to
time. An old leather belt, which Mr. Goudy had used to carry his
money around his person, was also found, but not very carefully
examined, or the robbers would have added a $100 bill, which was
concealed within it, to their other booty. Fortunately, they
overlooked this "nest egg," and it was spared to the family.
Maddened at their failure to find more money—the $9,000 Mr.
Goudy Was
reported to have in the house—they heaped all sorts of Curses
upon the family
and left them to reflect in sadness upon the ways of the wicked and the
ungodly.
Capt. Thomas Goudy, the married son, lived near by the cabin of
his father.
He had been captain of a militia company in Ohio, and his
uniform, etc., were
hanging up against the wall, on seeing which they remarked,
“he’s been a
military officer and must be a rich man.” His money was
demanded, but the
demand was not rewarded with success. After rummaging the house
pretty
thoroughly and finding nothing for their trouble, but some
provisions, they left
Capt. Goudy’s and went to the house of William F. Gilbert, not
far distant,
who was a prominent man in the neighborhood, and who was
believed to keep
considerable money by him. At this particular time, three men
were stopping over night with Mr. Gilbert—the Dubuque and Iowa
City mail carrier and two
other men. Gilbert’s house, like old man Goudy’s, only had one
room and two
beds. Mrs. Gilbert and the children occupied one bed, the two
strangers occupied the other, and Gilbert and the mail carrier
were sleeping on a bed
made down on the floor before the fire. The entrance of the
robbers was so
sudden and noiseless, that before the occupants of the cabin
knew what was
going on, they were covered with guns and clubs, and Gilbert’s
money
demanded. In attempting to rally to the defense of the house,
Gilbert and the
mail carrier were both knocked down, and the cheek bone on one
side of the mail carrier’s face mashed completely in by a blow from a club
wielded by one
of the thieves. The house was completely searched, and in the
drawer of a
secretary—which was opened and closed by a secret spring,
supposed to be
known to no one but the older members of the family—a
fifty-dollar bill and some thirty or forty dollars in change was
found and taken. Only three of the
gang were engaged in this robbery, and Mr. Gilberts little son,
while the work
of plunder was going on, rose up in his bed and recognized a
neighbor, one Goodrich. who lived but half a mile distant, as
one of the robbers. This neighbor had hitherto been unsuspected, but he opened the private
drawer in the secretary as quickly as Mr. Gilbert could have
done, showing very conclusively
that he lad some knowledge of the premises. He had no doubt
often seen the
secretary and its private drawer opened, and had watched even
movement of
its opening and every part of its construction. The amount of
change taken from Mr. Gilbert was not definitely known, but it
was estimated at from $30 to $40. Estimating it at $30, and
adding that amount to the amount taken from Mr. Goudy, and the
robbers had $240 as a reward for one night's work.
ARRESTS, FLOGGINGS AND CONFESSIONS.
News of these outrages spread like wild-fire. The whole country
was aroused. Capt. Thomas Goudy and some others started in
pursuit of a man named Wallace, who was believed to be
implicated. Old man Goudy
went to
J. W. Tallman, at Antwerp, and Col. Prior Scott, at Pioneer
Grove, for advice
and counsel. It was agreed that nothing ought to be done of an
aggressive
nature until Wallace should be found, arrested and brought back.
Col. Scott
went among the people and inaugurated measures for the
organization of a mutual protective association. The settlers
hunted up their old rifles, shotguns,
and every other kind of weapon they could find. The organization
was perfected and the vigilantes were ready to commence the
work. Wallace was captured at Illinois City, ten miles above Muscatine, on the
Illinois side 0f the Mississippi River, by a citizen named Coleman, and turned over
to Capt. Thomas Goudy and his party. Coleman was not above
suspicion. He was suspected of belonging to the outlaws, but an
estrangement
had come between him and Wallace, and hence Wallace's easy
capture. A warrant was taken out for the arrest of Switzer, and
when Wallace was returned, Switzer was arrested
and a preliminary examination held before a Justice of the Peace
(John G.
Cole, probably) of the precinct where the robbery was committed.
Both of
them were held to bail, and their cases came on for trial at
Tipton at the October
term (1841) of the District Court.
Switzer was a powerfully built man, and his size and strength
were feared by
a majority of men, and trouble was feared when his arrest should
be undertaken.
The warrant for his arrest was placed in the hands of James W.
Tallman, as
Constable. At that time, Tallman lived at Antwerp, where he
called two or three of his neighbors to his assistance, and
later in the night started for Holderman's mill to complete his posse. They arrived at Holderman’s
mill at 12
o’clock at night, and seeing a light within, opened the door
without ceremony
and surprised William Fraseur, who was there “sitting up” with
Charlotte
Baker, his present wife. Fraseur’s joys of courtship were
interrupted for the
time being, and he and Christian Holderman, Wm. McNaughton and
J. McCartney were summoned as additions to the posse, when the
party moved forward to the point of attack. The posse reached Switzer’s about 2
o’clock in the morning, and hitching their horses a short
distance from his cabin, they
approached and surrounded the house and demanded admission and
the surrender of Switzer. The latter refused to open the door until
morning, claiming
that he did not know but what they had come to rob him and those
who were
there with him. He cursed Tallman, and declared in language
most profane
that he could not and would not be taken. “If you had come like
men,” said he, after Tallman had told him for what he was being arrested,
“in daylight, I
would have given myself up without hesitation, as I have no fear
of the consequences.” When daylight came, the door was opened, and Switzer
was taken
in custody. There were three or four strapping fellows in the
house when the posse entered, and the
appearance indicated that it was more of an arsenal than
an honest settler’s cabin. Guns, pistols and ugly knives were
scattered all
around. As soon as Switzer surrendered, the posse started back,
and reached
Holderman’s far breakfast. After breakfast, a part of the posse
crossed the
river for another suspected party, already referred to, but who, upon
preliminary examination, proved an alibi. As already stated, Switzer and
Wallace were
held to bail, and subsequently tried in the District Court at
Tipon.
About the time Switzer and Wallace were arrested, James
Stoutenberg, alias
James Case, was arrested at Conlogue’s, by other parties, as
accessory to the
Goudv robbery, and as an accomplice and
member of the gang. He was taken to the woods near Conlogue’s, and examined in the court of Judge
Lynch, and in the effort to extort a confession from him, was finally
stripped to his waist,
tied to a tree and severely flogged. After that event, he was
never again seen
in the country, and it is believed by some that the same parties
carried him to
Cedar River tied him to a stone raft and left him to his
fate.
Conlogue was also arrested as accessory to the Goudy robbery,
but at the
preliminary examination he established an alibi. Being satisfied
that he was
guilty of helping to plan the robbery, the indignant settlers
took him to the
brush, where he was tried by rules not recognized by courts of
law. He was found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged. A motion
was made to change the
sentence to whipping. The motion prevailed and was carried into
effect, and it
was ordered that each of the citizens should give him five
lashes on the bare back, until the panel was exhausted. If that
failed to extort a confession as to
the particulars of the robbery, and the extent and names of the
gang, then the "application was to be repeated, until he was
whipped to death." Conlogue soon fell on his hands and
knees, almost completely exhausted. Blows continued to fall upon
his quivering, bleeding back. At last he
imploringly raised his hand and in agonized whispers begged for
mercy, and promised to reveal all that he knew of the operations
of the freebooters. The
execution of the
sentence was suspended, and the bleeding, suffering wretch kept
his promise.
He admitted his complicity in the Gaudy robbery, and that he
received $25
as his share of the plunder. He told them that he had the
particulars of the night's work from Wallace, who was the leader
on that occasion, and that Switzer was another one of the five
men who perpetrated the robbery. The sentence was then fully remitted. An embrocation of salt was used
upon his
lacerated flesh, which was followed by an application of
slippery elm bark, and
he was allowed to depart for his home.
At the time of this occurrence,
Conlogue was under indictment, in
Johnson
County, for assaulting, with intent to rob, a man named Brown.
For this
offense he was subsequently tried, found guilty and sentenced to
the penitentiary.
Goodrich, Gilbert's neighbor, who was
recognized by the little son of the latter while he was
ransacking Gilbert's house and secretary, was tried in the same
court, and on the same day that Conlogue received such a
terrible castigation, and was sentenced to a similar punishment.
The sentence was carried into execution by a man named Murdoch,
of Iowa City. Goodrich
was terribly cut and gashed, but the flagellation failed to elicit from
him anything that
would criminate himself. He removed from the county soon
afterward, and has
never been seen or heard of since.
The revelations made by Conlogue clearly implicated McBroom,
previously
mentioned as the general attorney of the gang, and he was also
arrested and tried by the "court in the brush," and sentenced to
be whipped. He was taken
into Big Creek bottom, near Scott’s mill, stripped to the waist,
tied to a small
burr oak tree and whipped within an inch of his life. Like
Goodrich. he soon
after left the country.
Some years ago, William Stretch, one of
the early settlers in the neighborhood where the above occurrences transpired, made a trip down
the Mississippi
River as far as New Orleans, and met and recognized McBroom at
some of the Southern cities—Nashville, Memphis or New Orleans—our informant
does not
remember which. The recognition was mutual, and McBroom begged
that
Stretch would say nothing there of his life, associations and
disgrace in the
Cedar River country. He assured Stretch that he was a different
man there from
what he had been here. He still keenly felt the disgrace that
had been brought
upon him by his complicity with the Cedar County freebooters.
Upon inquiry,
Stretch learned that McBroom was leading an honest life, and had
accumulated a fortune estimated at $40,000.
A young man named Wilson, a cousin of the Brodies, connected
with the
gang, was overtaken in Washington Township, Linn County, and
shot dead
while seated in his buggy. by a self-appointed band of
Regulators. Seventeen
balls penetrated his body. The fellow was attempting to pass
through the county with a team of stolen horses, from the
eastern part of the State. Some of those who participated in the
act are still living here, but are reticent in regard to the
affair. The names are purposely omitted. |
