# /?<&-?? F 690 .B6 S9 Copy 1 ili-d I'roiii \(>l. XIII. rollcclioiis Kiinsiis Slate lIistoi-ii:il Society. BOHEMIANS IN CENTRAL KANSAS. Written by Fkantis J. Sweiii.a. for the Kansas State Historical Society. FRANCIS J. SWEHLA. IT is truly said that the best memory is fact recorded. "Black on white" — cerne na bilem."' The human mind retains early impressions with wonderful indelibity. But that power of the mind weakens in old age, and we do not become alarmed or aware of the fact till much of our past ex- perience and knowledge has slipped or faded away from us. Recollections are of great variety as to value. We value them according to the amount of happiness they yield us, or knowledge that renders us intelligent, wise, powerful for good. Unhappy recollections serve as a warning lesson. "Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me. The smiles, the tears of boyhood years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, now dimmed and gone. The cheerful hearts unbroken; Thus in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me." I was born November 5, 1845, at number 42 in the large village of Al- brechtice, near Vltava-Tyn, in southern Bohemia — the heart of Europe. My father was a master wheelwright or wagon maker. My mother, whose maiden name was Elizabeth Moudra, died when the subject of this sketch was less than four years of age, he being the first born — and his younger brother, 1. In the Bohemian language the accented c stands for the sound of eh as in church, and accented s for sh as in English; j has the sound of y, and z accented takes the sound of zh. It has not been possible to use the proper accent marks in all cases, therefore italics have been re- sorted to. Kansas State Historical Society. less than two years old, died with the mother — the Asiatic cholera decimating the country. Father, whose first name was also Frantisek as written in the Cesky tongue, soon married again. So young Frantisek attended the village school under the care of his stepmother, Anna, till the spring of 1854, when the family with a number of other families from near-by villages moved to the United States of America. We came down the rapid river Vltava [Moldau] to the capital city of Prague, there taking the railroad train by way of Leipzig to Hamburg, and from there by a small steamer to Liverpool, where a three- masted sailing ship was boarded. After four weeks of fairly good sailing, having experienced only about three days of storm, the colony arrived at New York City and proceeded by railroad train via Philadelphia to Pittsburg, Pa., where a stop of a few weeks was made. From there we went to Cleveland, Ohio, where a longer stop was made; but this city was not the goal of the colonists. Their desire was to acquire land for themselves, and they had been advised by well- informed persons that the new state of Iowa, just beginning to be settled upon its eastern border, was a favored country to go to. Therefore the next move was via the Great Lakes on a rear-end turbine propeller to Chicago, 111., thence by railroad cars northwest to Galena, as far as any cars ran at that time; from there the journey was made by wagons, to haul the baggage, the women and the children; men had to walk. Thus the colony proceeded to the Mississippi through the dense forest. An accident which might have been very serious, happened one evening as it grew dark, and before we reached a lowly tavern in the woods. The driver of one of the wagons, seeing a big mud-hole before him, and trying to avoid it, turned too far to the right into the dense trees and upset the wagon in the mud. We were all thrown out; children screamed, women prayed, and the driver cursed; trunks burst wide open, spilling the linen and extra clothing into the mud and water. The men came up to the catastrophe and dragged the besmeared ones out of the mud, set the wagon right side up, and, each finding his own, started on pulling the dear ones along by hand, for no one wanted to get on the wagon again. When dad wiped the mud off my eyes I could see a light ahead. It was the tavern in the woods. Washed up and with a steaming supper in the glare of the candle lights, we saw and felt we were not hurt as bad as we were scared. Next day reaching the Father of Waters, a steam ferry took us to Du- buque, Iowa. The colonists rented houses on the outskirts of the small town, placing two or more families in each house, and the men looked for work, as the finances of most of them were nearly exhausted by the long journey. My uncle Frank, or Francis Swehla (the same name as father's, they were cousins), took a trip to Winneshiek county, Iowa, where a Bohemian settle- ment had been started early that summer (1854) near Calmar, then called Whisky Grove. It was on the border of a large settlement of Norsemen, or Norwegians, which reached far beyond Decorah, the county seat. My uncle bought out the rights of a Norwegian settler and secured a section of land for himself and relatives. So after a few months' sojourning in the town of Dubuque, and working for fifty cents per day, part of the colony moved to their destination by a river steamer up the river to Lansing, when they should have gone to McGregor, that being the shortest route. On reaching D. of D. MN : 1918 i Bohemians in Central Kansas. 3 Lansing no one could be hired to haul the party west, about fifty miles, so the baggage had to be stored and the party started on foot. We followed a wagon track, according to directions given my father, who was the guide and interpreter for the party on the whole way from home in Ceske Vlasti. He was the only one who could speak German, and he was able to find Ger- mans everywhere thus far. But on our second night's lodging in a primitive little log cabin, and they were scarce, he found good people that he could not talk with, as we had struck the Norwegian settlement, but they under- stood our wants all right. They were a white-haired but a warm-hearted people — those Norsk. Waking up in the morning, we found snow covering the ground, and made our first footprints in snow in America, November 1, 1854. And so the summer was spent, and with it our small capital, in travel- ing over the greater part of the civilized world to land in the wilderness. A great change of circumstances wrought in half a year's travel! As it was too late for each family to dig itself a habitation in the hillside as the Norwegian settlers had done, several families combined to build a house out of slabs bought from a rude and primitive sawmill on Turkey river. Uncle had bought a yoke of oxen and an old wagon to haul the slabs and get the baggage left at the river's landing. He built a stable of split rails and old dead grass for hay, but winter was too severe for that kind of quarters, and the oxen froze, or half froze and half starved. In a few days after our arrival I became nine years of age. That was a memorable winter in that home of slabs. We had two cook stoves, one on each side of the aisle that led through the middle of the room from the door at one end to a window at the other. The bedsteads were placed on each side of the aisle like cots in a hospital. But there was no bedstead for me. I slept on the woodpile behind one of the stoves, shivering with cold every night till Mrs. Jan Hajek took me under her feather bed. My oldest sister Katerina was born there that winter, and another girl for our neighbor. She was named Maria Hajek. I can not give dates, as that is over fifty-nine years ago and I have nothing but my memory to go by. When spring came in 1855 father, with the help of mother, dug a hole in a hill on land bought of the government at $1.25 per acre. Over the hole, which was about 10x12 feet, father built our home, logs on the four sides with three beams for girders to hold the dirt roof. There was a door and one window in one end. Father being a woodworker, found work among the settlers whereby he made a living for his family, which consisted of a wife and three children. Brother Josef was about two and a half years old, and I was the nurse for baby Katerina. Mother made garden, hoeing it right in the sod, and fencing it with brush which I helped to pull together from the hillsides. This brush fence was made from the branches left by those who cut trees and took only the trunks. I was soon found a place to work for my own board and lodging, with $24 per year besides to father. My em- I)loyer was Mr. Lawrence Glass, a German-French farmer; here I began to learn German. The Bohemian settlement kept increasing through new arrivals from Bohemia; they built a Catholic church first in Spillville, in 1860, and later another in Protivin. I soon became tired of working "bound out" by dad, and struck out on my own hook, learning a trade outside the Bohemian settlement. After spending two winters in public schools at Fort Atkinson, 4 Kansas State Historical Society. Iowa, I took up the harness-making business, not from choice but from necessity, as no other job could be found in Decorah, whither I went. October 6, 1862, I, a lad of sixteen years and eleven months, enlisted in company D, Sixth Iowa cavalry. It came about this way. Timothy Finn^ a hardware merchant of Decorah, approached me as a recruiting officer, telling me that I would pass anywhere for eighteen, I was so big. There had just been an outbreak of Indian hostilities with a terrible massacre in Min- nesota, and the Civil War was raging in the South. I was fired with enthu- siasm. I had heard the old folks in town reading and talking about the war and I wanted to go. I was especially anxious to go in a cavalry troop — a cavalryman and a hero seemed synonymous to me then — not now. My father, finding it out, objected bitterly, telling me that he had left the old mother country to keep me clear of military duty, and now I wanted to volunteer. Horrible! But this was the country of my choice. I had heard the sound of the fife and drum, I had seen the flying flags and the recruits marching up and down the streets, and I had caught the war spirit, so to the war I went. That is how I happen to be an old veteran now; three years of war service for Uncle Sam before I was twenty years of age. Pioneer life in the wilds of Iowa during childhood; pioneer life again after fighting the wild Indians in the Dakota wilderness. Three years in company D, Sixth Iowa cavalry. An honorable discharge from service at the end of the war, October 17, 1865, at Sioux City, Iowa. On May 18, 1868, I married Miss Anna Kuchta in church at Spillville, Iowa. I put my bride into a prairie schooner, a brand-new covered wagon drawn by two yoke of oxen, and leading a caravan of such westward over the swamps and prairies of Iowa into eastern Dakota we arrived in Saline county Nebraska. I located and surveyed claims for many new settlers in Nebraska, mostly in Saline county, and helped to build up one of the best Bohemian settlements in the state between the years 1869 and 1874. In the fall of 1869, while gone thirty miles to a grist mill near Lincoln, to get some wheat ground, a trip which with oxen took two days and nights, prairie fire destroyed all my summer's work except the dugout we lived in. On an election day in October, 1873, while at Pleasant Hill, then the county seat of Saline county, electioneering for Anton Herman a young man, son of Bohemian parents, running for the office of county treasurer, prairie fire for the second time swept away all my possessions. And this time it was more than the toil of one summer for me and my family. I was a heavy loser in property, but not in life. Starting on Swan creek, driven with the fury of a south wind, the fire swept a district over six miles wide and about nine miles long. In this fire a lady school teacher and some of her pupils perished. I was standing in the main street of Pleasant Hill when I spied the clouds of smoke in the direction of my home. In the wink of an eye I was in the saddle and splitting the wind with my gray mare. She leaped through the air, blind to danger and knowing no fear, and I was in my own dooryard as my wife came out of the house with our first-born son, Victor, in her arras, meeting me with lamentations. But I wasted no time in that. I grabbed sacks and wet them, determined to stop the fire fiend at the road. Neighbors came running to help, but the wind carried bunches of flaming grass through the air over our heads and in this way lit five big stacks of wheat at the tops. The fire consumed stacks of hay, a stable, a grain drill, the first in our Bohemians in Central Kansas. 5 settlement of "Empire," a log granary and two ricks of bound oats. All that was left was our log house, a wagon and a dug well, I am not sure whether the bucket was burned or not. The wagon carried me to Kansas the next spring. The loss of my property drove me to teaching school — my first school — and I furnished my log cabin for the schoolhouse. As I taught that school I did some things besides — I did some thinking as I read my weekly papers, "Saline County Post," "Pleasant Hill News," and "Pokrok," a Cesky rasopis published in Cleveland, Ohio, and "Pokrok Zapadu" (Progress of the West), published in Omaha, Neb. That winter of 1873- '74 was hard also on the laboring class in the cities of the United States. So I undertook to solve the problem of how to better conditions for myself and as many others as possible. I had but eighty acres of a homestead, and that was because Congress had given all odd-numbered sections of land to the Bur- lington & Missouri River R. R. Company, so the settlers were given only one-half as much as where there was no land grant. We had preempted our land before Congress allowed ex-soldiers to take an additional eighty for a homestead. Later the land was all taken up, for I worked hard to settle my fellow countrymen on government land. So I still had a right to an addi- tional eighty besides one hundred and sixty acres under the timber act, two hundred and forty acres in all, wherever I could find it. Many were agi- tating for western Nebraska, but I dreaded it and preferred to go south and only as far west as I had to, to find a location for a new Bohemian settlement. I bought a section map of Kansas, discovered the land offices of the United States government, and when spring came and my school was out I led a caravan of covered wagons, on May 5, 1874, in the direction of Kansas. We crossed the line at its intersection of the sixth principal meridian, going through Belleville to Concordia. There we stopped to examine plats at the government land office, but there was a grab game played there. I had to hire a lawyer to get any attention. I spent a few dollars for plats, but was repulsed, and not finding sufficient government land for a colony, went on to Salina, Kan. The south wind blew so hard every day and night that I lost all my followers but one young single man, or rather boy, who got off of one of the retreating w^agons and went with me just for the grub, and the love of roving adventure. Nothing could turn me from carrying out my plan — nothing less than death. At the Salina land office I found fair and gentlemanly treatment. I could have found land enough for myself in Saline county, but not enough for a colony withou buying, so I did not investigate that chance. I bought three or four plats of townships that had railroads in them — Kansas Pacific, and Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe — and went to examine the lands. The eastern part of Ellsworth county, that I passed through, seemed too rough for farming. On May 12, 1874, I passed through the town of Ellsworth. I don't know whether any of its citizens made out the writing on my wagon cover or not. It read: "Ceska Osada." Those words, meaning "Bohemian Settlement," conceived first in my brain, were later put on canvas, and afterwards worked into reality — a grand success. May 14, 1874, I arrived at Wilson. Jacob Sackman, an old veteran, was the first man to give me a welcome. But later I found comrades of my own regiment, and company, even, in Ellsworth county. So I decided to seek no further. 6 Kansas State Historical Society. While teaching my first public school in my log cabin on my claim in Nebraska, I was reading in my newspapers of our people organizing companies! in the large cities to move out and settle on land, to go to farming, because! there was a financial panic in this country. Wages were low and many thou- sands were out of work in every city. One such company of Bohemians in New York City was organized and had secured reduced rates to go west to settle! on land; another in Chicago, 111.; and each club or colony voted to send a committee to explore some western state. Some went to Wisconsin; some to South Dakota and northern Nebraska; some came through Kansas on the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad as far as Larned, I believe, but: there was trouble in each and every direction. Discord and disagreements j followed. It seemed very hard for the exploring parties to find, to their' satisfaction, the "Promised Land, flowing with milk and honey"; and still harder to please all the home-seekers. It is no wonder when we consider where these people had been all their lives. In Bohemia, as in most other parts of Europe, all the people live in cities, towns and villages except a few foresters, who, sixty years ago, with some of the millers, lived in remote places as the American farmer does here. Hence they had never seen iso- lated farm dwellings. Customs and habits are second nature, and solitude seemed to frighten such people. An American farmer in a well-settled country seemed to them a poor human lost in a wilderness. How then would a pioneer, miles from his nearest and also lonesome neighbor, look thirty to sixty miles from the nearest little station? Horrible! Unbearable! Buried alive! Hunger is the hardest task-master, and it seemed to be a case of "root hog or die!" So after I decided to locate a Bohemian settlement in and around Wilson, Kan., then called "Bosland" by the Kansas Pacific Railroad Company, I wrote up the location showing everything I could in its favor. The main things were, temperate climate; good soil; free land from Uncle Sam, or cheap relinquishments of improvements by previous settlers; rail- road land at from $2.50 to $5.00 per acre; good and plenty of water from never-failing springs and wells at from thirty to sixty feet; plenty of building stone of fine quality, and an accessible railroad station. A paradise for poultry, cattle, horses, sheep, hogs, etc. I kept my pen going, publishing my reports in Bohemian-American papers until I drew the attention of the farm clubs formed in the cities and of all that reading public. Soon letters came pouring in wanting answers, and I had lots of writing to do, but that was all it cost — my time, stationery and postage stamps. The first homestead entry of government land ever made in the Salina land office by a Bohemian-American was on May 16, 1874, and I made the entry. I bought a breaking-plow, on time, of Mr. S. P. Himes and Albert Jellison, hardware dealers in Bosland; with it I broke prairie, camping by a pond on my newly selected home site. One day, as I was turning over the green sod, I saw a great herd of Texas steers being grazed from Smoky Hill river two or three miles north up to the hills of the divide, and back again to the river, where a camp of herders — "cowboys" — was located. As they came back near noon, while I was out of sight, the cowboys swept down from the hills, with the great herd, right through the ravine over my best hay grass, and by the pond where my covered wagon stood. When I came to take dinner in my prairie schooner I missed my old army six-shooter I had Bohemians in Central Kansas. 8 Kansas State Historical Society. bought of Uncle Sam when discharged from service. My pocketbook showed signs of inspection, too. But my surveying instruments were not molested. As my exploration trips had cost me about all the money I had with me, the boys did not get a very big haul. After breaking eighteen acres of sod — buffalo-grass sod — which, owing to lack of rain, got so hard it was with some difficulty that I finished about the middle of June, I did some surveying for Mr. Van Orden, who kept the hotel at Wilson, and Mr. Hutchinson, on section 28, township 14, range 10, where they planned to start a sheep ranch. On June 17, 1874, I started back to my log cabin in Nebraska, where I had left my dear wife and the three children we raised there, Klara, Mary and Victor. Leaving my breaking- plow with the men I bought it of, I struck out north by way of Wolf Creek on the Saline river, a shack of a country store they called Pottersburg, Cawker City, past Jewell Center to Hebron in Nebraska, arriving home in Saline county, Nebraska, on the longest day of the year. As I had written to my wife that I had made a new start, and we would sell out all we could n't carry away in our schooner, she had a buyer there ready waiting for me, Mr. Josef Freof, from Iowa. The sale was made in a short time, without any dickering, at $12 per acre. I thought I had done well; I had bought eighty acres from the B. & M. R. Rly. Company at $6 per acre only two sum- mers before, and the other eighty was a preemption. Especially did I think so a short time after the sale was closed, and about half of the purchase money paid, for I could then square up and get myself and family photo- graphed. In August, 1874, a great calamity happened to both Kansas and Nebraska — the greatest invasion the new states ever experienced in their history. How many thousands of families could write the darkest chapter of their lives commencing on that date! I think there are very few Kansans who see the date 1874 but will know of what invaion or calamity I write. It was an invasion of cavalry — flying cavalry! I will introduce here a little play of words that may be interesting to a student of languages. The word cavalry is derived, as you know, from the Latin word caballus, a horse. Now in the Bohemian or Czech language a horse is kiin (the n having sound as in cafiyon). Horses — Kone; diminutive, Konici — little horses or ponies. Now Konici is also the name of locusts or grasshoppers in our Bohemian vernacular. When this grand arm of flying cavalry lit on our luxurious cornfield, it was riddled in a few hours. The corn prospect had been very good, the ears filling out and in the milk stage. Gardens and orchards went just as fast as the corn- fields; even forest trees were defoliated in a day or two. This great host of locusts reminded me of my first experience with them in Dakota territory, when I was with General Sully's command fighting the hostile Sioux Indians up in the "bad lands," and building Fort Rice. It was our last of the three years of Indian hunting, 1865. The country was invaded that year by the above-mentioned cavalry, outnumbering us a million to one. But we had . no crops to be devoured by them, and as we were in the enemy's country we egarded them as our allies rather than a plague. And this word plague in that connection reminds me of the olden times when this kind of cavalry was sent by the Great Jehovah as a reinforcement to Moses in Egypt. So much for the flying cavalry. We still have them with us at this writing — July 22, 1913. Many thousands of dollars have been expended by different counties of the state this summer for the purpose of exterminating them. Bohemians in Central Kansas. 9 Though I was back on my farm in Saline county, Nebraska, I soon read the reports of how Kansas was invaded also. Crops, orchards and nurseries were devastated. And I was already located in that desolated country, just ready to move my family there! Now came a severe test of character. Would I turn with the tide of exodus pouring out of the unfortunate state through every road and by-way — going east? Many of my best friends argued to persuade me to stay with them in Nebraska, saying that Kansas was the native home of the g asshoppers. Jan Rosicky, of Crete, Neb., late editor of three Bohemian-American papers in Omaha, my intimate friend, tried hard to dissuade me, but no argument could change my mind from my plan of planting a Bohemian settlement in the very center of Kansas. Mr. V. Shantin, having also sold his farm near Crete, and being a good friend of ours, decided to go with us to see, and if pleased, to settle in our new colony in central Kansas. So we got our prairie schooner ready and sometime in the early part of September we proceeded to move into the new land of promise. Meandering southwest, we entered Kansas at the corner of Wash- ington and Republic counties, going through Republic, Jewell, Mitchell, and Lincoln counties into Wilson township, Ellsworth county. But what a pitiful sight was presented to our astonished view every day. Trees nearly all bare of leaves, grass eaten short everywhere, in some places dead and burned off. But the most discouraging spectacle was the numerous caravans that moved in a contrary direction to ours. And how they looked! My pen is powerless to do justice to the description. I even shrink from giving it such a description as I am able. It is too shocking for tender-hearted persons. It is too pathetic — the human beings we saw and their outfits. I delight in beauty, harmony, thrift; in power for spreading peace, plenty, happiness; comedy rather than tragedy. Mr. Shantin and family mustered only enough courage to come along till we reached the promised land — that was all! They went back. So my family and I had no company. We started in a strange land, among stran- gers. But hope kept our courage up, and we went right on building a new home in the then desolate wilderness. But there was a little railroad station in sight, where loomed up a curious-looking tower, all enclosed, with a curious windmill on top, the fans revolving horizontally instead of vertically. That was "Bosland," now- Wilson, on the Kansas Pacific railroad. There lived Mr. Jacob Fowle the postmaster, Albert Jellison and Sol Himes, general merchandise, and Mr. Adam Jellison the lumber man. I bought lumber to build a house, designed for a wheat bin, but to serve as our dwelling till it was needed for the winter wheat which I expected to raise the next year. It was small but cost big money. I lined it all with matched flooring that cost $60 per thousand; shingles, $6 per thousand. That fall through county commissioners the Kansas Pacific Railroad Company furnished those settlers who remained on their farms seed wheat and rye on time, to be paid for a year after. So I got some seed wheat and rye to put out on my sod. The first sowing of winter wheat and rye was done under great difficulty. The difficulty consisted in the ground, it being so dry that a proper seed bed could not be prepared. That was before the invention of the disk-harrow. I tried to stir the dry sod with the breaking- plow, but found it impossible, for it had baked hard instead of rotting. I could only turn over the two inches of sod that had been cut and turned 10 Kayisas State Historical Society. top side down in June. If I tried to cut a slice deeper, I had to go four inches to make the plow stay in the ground at all, and that was too hard a pull on my pair of old mares. Besides, the ground turned up in nothing but clods — like so many rocks. I made a harrow of oak timber with thirty-six big teeth three-quarters of an inch square, twelve inches long, set one foot apart each way. But it was like harrowing rocks; clods rolled over and over and lost nothing in size. Finally I gave up and sowed the seed on the ground just as it \yas broken in June, trying to cover by harrowing. I put an old rail- road tie on the harrow for weight. There was no grain drill in the country MR. AND MRS. F. A. SWEHLA AND DAUGHTER ROSA. then, none could be found on farms or in the towns, so I sowed the seed by hand, just as grandfather used to do in the old country long ago. When I went over the sod with that big weighted harrow, it barely scratched it, it was baked so hard. I could scarcely tell where the harrow had been dragged, and repeated harrowings would not cover all the seed. It was like harrowing a road in a dry time. Then the big flocks of birds, English spar- rows, were a pest; they picked up the seed before it could get even one dragging. Of course the crop was according to the work. That autumn, November 22, 1874, was born Frank Swehla, the first child of Bohemian parents born in central Kansas, and our fourth child. When this boy became a man he married, on August 16, 1897, Miss Anna Martinek, Bohemians in Central Kansas. 11 who was the first girl born of Bohemian parents in Russell county, Kansas. She was born July 20, 1877. The first couple married iirthe Bohemian colony were Mr. Anton Oswald and Miss Mary Kvasnicka, sometime in 1877. Fortunately the winter of 1874-'75 was very mild. If it had not been it perhaps would have killed what little live stock there was left here. There was scarcely any feed of any kind, and the prairie grass — the good, nutritious buffalo grass, was burned off. Mr. Wullum on the Cow creek flats had a fireguard plowed around the northeast quarter of section 23, township 14, range, 10, so the grass on that one hundred and sixty acres was saved. My two mares and a colt ran away from the hay I had bought at a high price, from John Jellison of the same flats, but I did not wonder at the dumb brutes. It was the poorest excuse for hay I ever saw — short, moldy, mixed with weeds and other dirt. I was the only head of a family that spent that winter in the proposed colony. I did some writing. Notwithstanding the desolation caused by drought and grasshoppers and fire, I had a vision of the future greatness of this land of promise, and I never gave up putting into execution my plan to found a Bohemian colony there. I wrote about the possibilities of the country and of its being the best escape for the unemployed of the congested cities, as well as an escape from the cruel tyranny of the Austrian Empire. I wrote to all he different Bohemian papers published in the United States. This broug me many inquiries, letters coming from persons in different parts of the c 1 ntry wanting some special particulars. I had as high as a dozen letters at a time in the post office at Wilson, and answered them all, and nearly always had to use my own stamps. Be it here remembered, I had no pecuniary interest in the project as I was not agent of any land company or individual and got no commission or salary. By correspondence I found an organization in New York City that wanted to get into an agricultural country, but didn't know where; and still another just like it in Chicago. They had spent money on committees, sending them to discover locations for colonies, but all in vain. The committees traveled by railroad and other ways, but found nothing to suit. So my messages were very timely, and very welcome — were in fact messages of great joy, of deliverance from low-wage slavery, and from worse — enforced idleness. As soon as the spring of 1875 opened emigrants began to flock in from all directions. The first couple that came were not a married couple, but two old bachelors, brothers, Josef and Vaclav Klima, from the Sable pineries, Michigan, where they had worked some three years and raised a stake of about $800 each. Detroit had been their headquarters, and they had friends and acquaintances there who soon followed in their wake. Jan Cicek, another old bachelor and a chum of the Klima brothers, came next, with two families, Jacob Jedlicka and Martin Miegl, both having marriageable daugh- ters, and boys big enough to be of great help on a farm. The club in New York City, above mentioned, decided to come to my colony, and secured reduced rates on the railroads through the assistance of the city authorities, with the privilege of a car for themselves. I found free homes for them all near me in Wilson township, Ellsworth county. The three bachelors and Jacob Jedlifka and family I located on section 28, township 14, range 10 west, between one and two miles from Wilson in a direct line. Martin Miegl settled on the northeast quarter of section 34, Wilson township, Josef Dyma- 12 Kansas State Historical Society. rek on the north half of the northwest quarter, and Jan Brasna on the south "half of the northwest quarter of the same section, 34. One man of the New York City club, after writing me a letter, broke away irom his club and came out some time ahead of them, trying to play sharp, and get first choice of homestead. He landed his family in Ellsworth, our county seat, and came on to Wilson, walking to my cabin two miles due east of town. I met him with a handshake and a smile, and he asked me, "To je pan Swehla?" "Ano," I said, and I asked him his name. "Hu! didn't I write you?'" he asked — much surprised that I did not recognize him because he had written to me. I had never seen him, or a picture of him, before. He confidentially told me that he was an "Odd Fellow," which I took for granted; he appeared very odd. His treachery to his fellows left behind did not recommend him to me as being a very desirable neighbor, so I agreed with his brother Odd Fellows who advised him to settle on Buffalo creek near Ellsworth. After many years of hardships on his homestead, I met him as I was surveying a state road through the county, running close to his place, and he complained to me of the great ingratitude of his only son! The rest of the New Yo.k club reached Wilson safely, and I located them all on section 26 in Wilson township, as follows: Martin Honomichl on the northwest quarter; Adolf Honomichl on the north half of the southwest quarter; Jan Krasnicka on the south half of the southwest quarter; Jan Merchl on the northeast quarter; Josef Krofta on the north half of the southeast quarter; Frank Hubka on the south half of the southeast quarter. I divided up the land for them, showing each his corners and boundary lines, made out the description and preemption papers, and charged them fifty cents apiece. The Chicago club was a much larger club, and the larger part of it came to Wilson later on. The New York City club had many stragglers who came in small groups, as did the Chicago club also. They kept coming out after they had received letters from their friends telling of the great expanse of nice land that became all their own just for the asking, and a small fee to the government. In a scattering way the following families arrived: Josef Dymacek from Nemaha county, Nebraska; Jan Brasna and family, consisting of two sons, Jan and Rudolf, and four or five girls, came from Detroit, Mich.; Jan Zal- oudek with a good sized family; J. F. Tampier, widower, with one son Josef and one daughter Mary, and Martin Fifel* and wife, all came from Saginaw, Mich. Later came one more family from Saginaw; the head of it was named Jakup Hanzlicek. He bought raw land in Wilson township, of the Kansas Pacific Railway Company, at about $5 or $6 per acre, choosing the southwest quarter of section 15. Jan Zaloudek settled on the southeast quarter of section 6, in the same township. Jan Dlabal and family came from Toledo, Ohio, as did Jan Krejci (pronounced Krachee) with his family the same spring. Krejci settled on the northeast quarter of section 12, township 14, range 11, Plymouth township, Russell county, and Dlabal settled on the northeast quarter of section 10, township 15, range 10, now in Noble town- ship, Ellsworth county. Josef Vancura settled on the northwest quarter of section 12, township 14, range 11, Plymouth township, Russell county. He brought his family from New York City, as did his two brothers-in-law, Jan Stoka and Vaclav Hubicka; these last two bought out Jack Crawford on the northwest quarter of section 18, adjoining the town of Wilson; they Bohemians m Central Karisas. 13 divided the land equally. Anton Sabrava and family, of the same party from New York City, bought out Marvin Brown on the northeast quarter of sec- tion 18, adjoining Stoka and Hubirka. Vaclav Gregor, a New York City cigar maker, bought the relinquishment and rights to improvement of Frank Brown on the northeast quarter of section 20, Wilson township, taking the west half of it for his homestead and letting Jan Pokorny, also of the New York party, take the east half gratis. Jan Minkovsky was the first Bohemian in Russell county. Josef Hrabik bought out the rights of John Stoltenburg on the northeast quarter of section 24, Plymouth township, Russell county. He and Miskovsky were in the same New York party and were related, their wives being sisters. The wives of Ferdinant Krulis and Josef Martinek, who bought out the rights of Philip Gabel on the southeast quarter of section 14, Plymouth township, Russell county, were also sisters. Krulis and Martinek divided the quarter between them, Martinek taking the east half. Early in the spring Anton Matous and Josef Junk, from Milwaukee, Wis., came to see the country first before bringing their families. They came, they saw, and were conquered, sending back to Milwaukee a favorable report, and not only their families but many others followed soon after. I was kept busy hunting and showing them locations on free homestead land — so busy • that I had to neglect opening up of my own farm. Amongst those who fol- lowed from Milwaukee were the following: G. W. Richter, a single man; Josef Rezac, married; Jan Klus, married; V. Chrudinsky; J^n Vesely, mar- ried; Joe Junk's parents and other brothers; the family of Anton Matous and his mother and her children. All settlers mentioned up to this time came by railway. But in the late spring there arrived a caravan of prairie schooners from Minnesota, not drawn by ox teams as I left Iowa eight years before, but by horse power. The caravan arrived in time to help the first settlers, who had preceded them one year, to gather the first harvest of winter wheat. In this addition to our settlement came Jan Sekavec and wife and their sons, W. F. Sekavec, a single man, and Frank Sekavec, married; Josef Zajic (Zayeetz) married, and Frank Zajic, single — brothers — and their parents and younger sisters and brothers. Harvesting in the centennial year was done by reaping, self-raking, machines drawn by two, three or four horses or oxen. Behind them, five or six good hands — men or women — would keep up if they were well trained. Two expert binders riding on the Marsh harvester could bind all the grain into bundles and throw them on the ground. As settlers came, the available free homestead land in the vicinity of Wil- son grew scarce, so I had to take the newcomers farther into the domain of the cowboys and their long-horned Texas cattle herds. And here was a conflict of interests. But the law was on the side of the settlers, and the free rangers had to go farther west into the wilderness, as the pioneer turned the buffalo grass under in preparation for the golden harvest. "Plum Creek Flats" is a level expanse of country, but between it and the Smoky Hill river the land is rough. As the home-seekers came I took them out to show them what vacant land there lay open for entry, and going south from the Smoky and through that rolling prairie land I had diflficulty in keeping my prospective settlers patient enough to wait for the beautiful prospect beyond. One time I had a load of land seekers and was 14 Kansas State Historical Society. going to show them free home sites in the direction of Plum Creek Flats. Plum creek heads in Palacky township, and runs down through Valley township into Rice county. Nothing suited my party for ten miles along the way. I had told them there was a level country farther on, but they were so disgusted with the travel and the looks of the wild land that they wanted to go back, and made me turn when we were near the divide, from the sum- mit of which they could have seen a most beautiful land of promise. They did not settle in my colony at all. Whether they regret it or not I never found out. The founding of the settlement in Palacky township occurred in June, 1876, when I took the Sekavec party over the crest, or summit, that divided the waters of the Smoky Hill from those of the Arkansas river, and showed them the "Plum Creek Flats." The largest party of Bohemian home-seekers came September 1, 1876, from Chicago. It was one of the organized clubs or colonization societies mentioned earlier in this article. The Chicago party which arrived in Wilson was but a small fraction, however, of the people who had been attending the meetings held in that city to organize an agricultural colony to settle on cheap lands or government homesteads. Since the panic of 1873 many people in the cities were in real distress, employment was scarce, and wages had been greatly reduced, therefore numbers had attended the meetings and joined the association. But when it came to raising a sum of money to defray the expenses of a committee to be sent out to discover a favorable location for the colony few were willing or able to pay their share of the necessary sum, and the majority withdrew. Out of the two hundred members but seventy- five remained in the club, and finally in 1875 sent three members as a com- mittee to look up a location. The committee, after a trip over the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe into central Kansas, returned, reporting in favor of Barton county. But the club for some reason disorganized, and nothing was done until by the efforts of Jan Oliverius, editor of a Bohemian weekly paper, "Vestuik," then published in Chicago, 111., a new company was or- ganized. The secretary of this new company wrote a letter of inquiry to me at Wilson, Kan., and receiving a favorable answer to questions, the following members of the club and their families came to Wilson on Septem- ber 1, 1876: Frank Malir, Matej Libal, Jan Lilak, Josef Fisher, Frank Stehno, sr., Frank Brichacek, V. Schanelec, Jan Schanelec, Frank Dolezal, Jan Cikanek, Frank Novak, V. Mares, all these with families, and Jos. Brichacek, Frank Habart, V. Vanis, Jos. Zamrzla and Frank Stehno, jr., young men of age, but single. More than the above named came, but did not remain to settle and develop the country, so their names are omitted. Later others came, following their relatives and friends; of these I mention the parents of Jos. Zamrzla with their children; Jos. Cikanek, Anton Slechta, V. Slechta, Jos. Smolik, Jan Vlcek, V. Zvolanek, Jos. Bachura, Horejsi, Frank Branda, Frank Harach, V. Dolezal, Frank Lilak, and Frank Boushka. These new settlers located in all directions from the starting point — Wilson township. For the first arrivals from Chicago I took my big farm wagon, and my two-seated spring wagon, both full. I drove them south of the Smoky Hill river, into what is now Noble township, and located Frank Malir on the southwest quarter of section 8, township 15, range 10, and V. Vanis on the south half of the northwest quarter, and M. Libal on the north half of the Bohemians in Central Kansas. 15 northwest quarter of the same section; Jos. Fisher on the northeast quarter, of section 18, township 15, range 10, Frank Stehno, jr., on the south- west quarter, and V. Mares on the northwest quarter of the same section; Jos. Bachura later on settled on the southeast quarter of section 6. Frank Dolezal bought a relinquishment from Ira E. Banner, a veteran of the Civil War, of the southwest quarter of section 24, township 14, range 10, in Wilson township. Jan Cikanek settled on the northwest (juarter of section 30, township 14, range 9, now in Columbia township. Frank and Jos. Brichaeek, Jan Schanilec, and Frank Novak and brother settled near the Saline river in Lincoln county, close to Sylvan Grove, where also located the Frank Urban family that came from Washington county, Iowa, in 1882, and from Strejchov near Bechyne, Bohemia, in 1867. Starting in Iowa city as a laborer, Mr. Urban now owns a fine residence in Wilson, to which he retired from his farm in Lincoln county, where he and his sons own land to the amount of 1760 acres. This is by no means an isolated example of thrift, and it should be remembered that there were no free homesteads to be had when the Urban family came to this section of Kansas. Mr. and Mrs. Josef Veverka, sr., came from Chicago, on the 17th day of January, 1878, with a family of small children, all too small to do much work, and a small capital. They bought the relinquishments to the southwest quarter of section 2, township 14, range 11, in Plymouth township, Russell county, of Vac Chrudimsky. Mr. Veverka, being located on the ridge that divides the waters of the Smoky Hill and Saline rivers right where there are building-stone quarries in abundance, made good use of them, putting up all farm buildings, and even a corral, of the magnesia limestone. Mrs. Veverka was an excellent business manager and her husband a hard worker; so they could not help but prosper, raising four sons and three daughters. They now live in a fine residence in Wilson, and recently sold a four-hundred-acre farm. Their sons own upwards of one thousand and forty acres of land. There are many more who have acquired much land, in fact the thrifty are too numerous to name. The colony's first sad misfortune occurred December 21, 1875, when Mr. Frank Hubka, who built in the ravine near the big curve of the Kansas Pacific railroad, was digging a well, and his neighbor, Mr. Josef Krofta, was helping. They had reached a depth of about twelve feet, going through sand, when what should have been expected happened. The sand caved in onto Mr. Krofta, burying him in the hole. A messenger was sent over two miles on foot to tell the writer of the accident. Knowing that the people near there had no material necessary in such a case, I lost no time in driving my wagon to Wilson, two and a half miles, getting what lumber I estimated to make the hole in that sand safe for a human being. When I arrived at the hole with my tools, lumber, and the three railroad section hands I had impressed into service, I found the wife of the unfortunate Krofta down in the hole frantically trying to extricate her young husband from that treacherous and persistent sand and from the awful fate of being buried alive. Every move she made and every handful of sand she lifted from over her loved one's head brought down much more on all sides of her. She, herself, looked to me in the very jaws of death, the sand piling about her ready to swallow her on top of her beloved husband. Her mad efforts only succeeded in uncovering Krofta's head so as to let the air to his mouth, but 16 Kansas State Historical Society. that was unavailing a it co^ld not get into his lungs. The weight of the sand was so great on his chest as to make expansion impossible. In a short time, with the help of the section hands, I had two regular polygons made out of the two-by-four-inch timber, reinforced by sections of six-inch fencing, just big enough to go into the hole and allow a fence board to be stuck be- tween them and the surrounding ground and sand. But it was uselessr Mr. Krofta was dead. The funeral was held on December 24. The procession was not very large, as there were but few who had horse teams in those days. It was indeed a sad Christmas for the new settlers. Especially was it a sad time for the bereft wife and child and for the mother of the dead man, for they could not have the comfort of their religion in the burial service. They were Roman Catholics and we had no Roman Catholic church in the settlement then, and no priest. Mr. Jos. Krofta's mother wa^. Mrs. Merchl, and this sad accident brought her to her death bed, and in less than a month she died, heart-broken, and her remains were laid to rest by the side of her beloved son. The bereaved Mr. Merchl and his unmarried son, disheartened now, and no longer contented with their free home, wished to go back to New York City, and Frank Hubka, whose unfortunate well-digging had caused all this, naturally sought to help them realize their desire. The parents and brothers and sisters of Mrs. Hubka were still in their native place, Loza, near Kralovice, Bohemia. The Hubkas wrote them of their new home and that they were landowners and farmers, and that their eighty-acre farm, when compared to the area of the biggest farms in their native village, would cover several of them. That kind of news from Kansas or any part of America always creates a great stir in the congested Old World. So it made a stir in Loza, and Mrs. Hubka's parents, Anton Soukup, his brother Josef Soukup, Jan Kepka, Jakub Vopat and his brother Jan Vopat, Josef Janecek, Frant. Soukup, Prokop Spousta, all heads of families, began to sell what they could not bring along with them to the new Bohemian settlement in Kansas. But it was not so easy to sell. Money is extremely scarce in a land im- poverished by militarism and ruled as the Austrian government misgoverns the kingdom of Bohemia. Therefore it was not until the spring of 1877 that our colony received its first increase direct from our native land, Cechy. Mr. Hubka's father-in-law, Anton Soukup, bought out the relinquishment of Mr. Merchl on the northeast quarter of section 26, Wilson township, and Mr. Merchl returned to New York City, a broken-hearted old man. From Loza, near Kraloyice, in 1880, came Jos. Kroft, Vaclav Hynes and Havel Soukup. The last two were miners by occupation, and very poor, as all miners are the world around, but Jos. Kroft and his son-in-law Podlena, who also came with them, were well to do. By that time no free homes were to be found except where it was possible to buy some one's relinquish- ment, and railroad land. Mr. Kroft bought the relinquishment of the southeast quarter of section 10, township 15, range 10, of Mr. Nadeje, a cigar maker from New York City, who returned there. Podlena bought railroad land, the southeast quarter of section three in Noble township. In the spring of 1877 came two brothers, Stepan Vanasek (Wafiasek) from Racine, Wis., a shoemaker, and Josef Vanasek from New York City, a cabinetmaker. Stepan bought the northeast quarter of section 27, and Bohemians in Central Kansas. 17 Josef the northwest quarter of section 27, Wilson township, of the Kansas Pacific Railroad Company, at about $5 per acre on eleven years' payments, Josef Vanasek, a few years later, bought the south half of section 27 from some speculators in the East. Mr. Stepan Vafiasek had two married daugh- ters and one single daughter in Racine, Wis. One of the married ones, Mrs. Jan Charvat. and her husband, came later and built a large hall at the north- east corner of section 27 on a fraction of her father's quarter section which the railroad cut off from the rest. This was called "Ceska Sin," or "Bohe- mian Hall," and it formed the social center of the colonists for many years. Colonists were accustomed to use this hall for all kinds of meetings; for such recreations as dramatic performances, athletics, dancing and singing r for cultural purposes, as a library club meeting; Mutual Aid Association meetings; political meetings. Here the settlers were taught their first lessons in "home rule," in republican form of government, and the value of American citizenship. And they were not slow in the ambition to be represented by one or more of their own nationality in the offices of the school district,, township, and county as the records will show. The first Bohemian elected to a public office in Ellsworth county was the- founder of the colony, your humble scribe. That was in 1875, by unanimous vote — there being no opponent — for the office of county surveyor. The next year, 1876, I was elected justice of the peace for Wilson township. In 1877, my time having expired as county surveyor, I was reelected to succeed my- self, getting three to one votes against Rev. Mr. Williams, of Green Garden township. In 1878 I was again reelected to succeed myself in the office of justice of the peace. My old comrade, Josef Drabek of company I, Sixth Iowa volunteer cavalry, who served with me three years, 1862- '65, and who. came here to settle on a homestead on the northeast quarter of section 6, Wilson township, was elected one of the constables. I was kept in two offices at the same time; it brought me lots of trouble but no profit — nothing, but loss. Public office and farming do not work together well. A sample civil case is the following reminiscence: Sargent and Dillman, partners in threshing-machine, plaintiff, vs. Mr. Bard, farmer, defendant. Mr. Richard Lafferty, attorney for plaintiff, Mr. Ira E. Lloyal, attorney for defendant. A jury trial demanded. Defendant lived over seven miles east of my house and had about half a dozen witnesses from his neighborhood. Nearly all of the town of Wilson was summoned for jury. I held that trial in my house, as most country justices did. We only had two rooms besides the summer kitchen, and both were full to overflowing. The people were but just gathered for trial by noon, and of course they got hungry. Nothing was said, no questions asked as to how they were to satisfy their hunger. It looked as though it were going to be an involuntary fast, but my good wife came to the rescue and surprised the court and "courtiers" with a big dishpanfull of doughnuts and a big pot of coffee, sufficient for all. A verdict for the plaintiff was the result, and all went home rejoicing. From their smiles I judge they were praising the good cooking of "his honor's" better half. Of course she col- lected no fees, and I did n't get as much for that day's trial as an ordinary farm hand gets now. —2 18 Kansas State Historical Society. Just one more, a sample of a criminal action. Those were the days of tramps. Many were heeding Greeley's injunction, "Go west, young man, go west!" And they were traveling on the railroad, too — counting ties. I then lived three-eighths of a mile north from the Kansas Pacific, now the Union Pacific, railroad track, and the travelers did not pass me unnoticed — not much. It was almost an everyday occurrence that some of them came to ask for a "bite to eat," occasionally two or three together. One morning a bunch of nine hungry men — all young — came. Of course we were in the habit of turning no one away hungry. They ate and went on their way re- joicing. In a few hours word was sent me that Ben Fowle, a deputy sheriff, had arrested a bunch of tramps, and wished me to come and give them a trial. I held court in town — short and sweet. A German kept a saloon in Wilson, and those same fellows we had fed in the morning went into it to treat each other, but none wanted to foot the bill, and the old German in trying to collect made some of them so angry that a row and broken bottles resulted. I examined the tramps one at a time and sent them to the county jail to be boarded by my friend Sam Hamilton, my fellow "courthouse rat," as the county officers were called- sometimes. But the county commissioners got tired of boarding free so many able-bodied men, so they sent them on their journey. Marrying young couples pleased me best of all my official duties. That was easy money. "I pronounce you man and wife" — three dollars and good luck! Here are some of the couples I had the pleasure of putting under the matrimonial yoke: Vaclav Oswald and Miss Mary Kyasnicka; Vaclav Vanis and Miss Katerina Zamrzla; Vaclav Zvolanek and Miss M. Urban; Jan Cizek and Miss Mary Krejci; Frank Branda and Miss Anna Urban. Societies in the colony were organized from the first. In the fall of 1875 the first local association was formed by my urgent efforts. I called a meeting one Sunday at the house of Mr. Adolf Honomichl, where the settlers assembled in good number, and we organized a union of the Bohemian-American set- tlers, and called it "Blahobyt." The following were elected officers for the first year: Francis J. Swehla, chairman; Jos. Klima, secretary; Jakub Jed- licka, treasurer. A committee of three was appointed by the chairman to draw up a constitution. The object of the union was mutual aid in sickness and distress caused by misfortune; the cultivation of a fraternal feeling; mutual up-lif ; mental, moral and physical cooperation, and the burial of dead members. There being no public hall, no schoolhouse or church building, the so- ciety adjourned its meetings from the home of one member to that of another, generally upon invitation. The meetings were held regularly each month, a special meeting being called by the secretary only upon urgent necessity and at the request of some members. Dues were twenty-five cents per month, but in case of emergency a collection was made at a meeting. This union did a great good while it lasted, and it was active five or six years. Perfect harmony prevailed in its meetings, as all religious propaganda was forbidden by the constitution. We aimed at temporal welfare only, leaving freedom of conscience to all. Besides the good services this union did locally to its members, we sent all the money we could spare to aid the widows and orphans of the Bohemian set<^lers who were massacred by the Northern Cheyennes in September, 1878, Bohemians in Central Kavs'as. 19 the last Indian raid in Kansas. After hearing of this outrage and learning the names of our countrymen, though we ourselves were ne?dy, we sent all we had in our treasury to be divided pro rata to widows and orphans of the murdered Bohemians. Thus we worked together until a Roman Catholic priest came to call his sheep to the fold, and separate "Ovecky od beran;/,'" the "faithful from the unfaithful," or unbelievers, as the liberals or free-thnkers were called here in America. "Berani" was an appellation of reproach given to all adherents of reformed churches in Bohemia, such as the Evangelical church of Europe, but there were very few settlers here who had belonged to that church. A great majority of the "Berani" were formerly Catholics who had lost their faith in that doctrine, but had not attached themselves to any other church. Before this first local society began to die a second one was organized in the "Bohemian Hall" built by Jan Charvat. This had a different object, a library or reading club with a dramatic and athletic branch. It was started May 2, 1880. We began collecting money for the library by charging mem- bership fees at time of joining, and by monthly dues. Also we made dona- tions of books. I started this by donating my "History of the Jesuits," and others followed the example. However, we were all poor in the supply of books that could be spared. This club was called "Stanvoy Spolkn Ctenarskeho," the Wilson Bohe- mian Library, and was instituted by the Bohemian settlers of central Kansas, chiefly farmers and mechanics. It was done with cheerful enthusiasm and rare unanimity, and the library, though small in the beginning, grew to hundreds of volumes, furnishing entertainment and instruction of a far nobler kind than card playing. The rules of the club were printed by the Slavie, a Bohemian paper of Racine, Wis. Membership fee was one dollar, payable on entrance into the club; the dues were ten cents a month, payable quarterly. The club held monthly meetings the second Sunday of each month. The constitution and rules consisted of some eight articles, and contained a provision for the burial of members. Any member of the club failing to attend the funeral of a deceased member was obliged to pay a fine of fifty cents into the treasury, and the society, upon the agreement of the family and relatives, conducted the funeral of its deceased members. This association at the start aimed to have exclusive use of its library, and one section of the original constitution forbids the loaning of books to non-members. I deemed this too narrow and selfish and persuaded the majority of members to adopt my view of it, so the library was offered to the reading public at a nominal fee of five or ten cents a volume. This priv- ilege was very generally made use of, especially after W. F. Sekavec, one of our most earnest members, moved from his farm in Palacky township, where he ran a store and kept the post office of Palacky, to Wilson, where he built a store building with his residence attached in the rear and maintained a hall on the second floor. We elected him our librarian, putting our library into his store. That made it more convenient for all patrons, and it was also a good attraction for his store. Besides, his hall was used for meetings; there the farmers met and organized the Farmers Elevator Company. Sekavec's hall was rented for many yea^s by a Bohemian lodge organized January 1, 1885, in the Odd Fellows hall. It is a local lodge of an extensive 20 Kansas State Historical Society. Bohemmns in Central Kansas. 21 order that had its start in St. Louis, Mo., on March 4, 1854, the year I came to America. It is a fraternal order securing to its members both sick benefits and life insurance. Aside from this it aims to cultivate and perpetuate the mother tongue; to promote and elevate the general standing of social, moral and spiritual life, by means of lectures, schools and libraries; and to use its best influence to assist our newly arrived countrymen to become good American citizens in as short a time as possible. This order has spread from a little local association at St. Louis, Mo., to two hundred and twenty-six or more local lodges scattered all over the United States, besides a Grand Lodge in each state. Our state of Kansas has at the present time, 1914, eight subordinate lodges, and a Grand Lodge located at Wilson. The local lodge at Wilson is called " Rad Vesmir" number 115. The initials of the national order are C. S. P. S., standing for "Cesko-Slovansk?/-Podporujici-Spolek," meaning Bohemian Slavonic Benevolent Union or Society. The whole membership of the order in the United States is about twenty-six thousand. The National Supreme Lodge at the present time is located at Chicago, 111.; •Jan Pecha, president; Jos. A. Smejkal, vice president; J. V. Luiiak, secretary; A. J. Jambor, assistant secretary; Jan Klous, treasurer. Officers of the Kansas Grand Lodge are Ferd Pecival, president; W. F. Sekavee, secretary; Anton Matous, state trustee; Fr. A. Swehla, treasurer. The following are the names and numbers of the subordinate lodges in the state of Kansas, and the location of each: Kalich (Eucharist) No. 74; president, Jos. Dressier, Holyrood; secretary Fr. J. Novotn?/, R. F. D. No. 1, Holyrood. This lodge has its own hall at Holyrood, which cost $8000. Kansas, No. 76; president, Fr. Panek; secretary, Fr. Kraisinger, R. F. D. No. 1, Rush Center. Novy Tabor, No. 89; president, Vaclav Voltman; secretary, Anton Stransk?/, Belleville. Zi^kov, No. 100; president, Mat Knedlek, Hanover; secretary, Jan Brychta, Bremen. Zizkuv Dub, No. 109; president, Fr. Plucar; secretary, Jos. Kopsa, Cuba. Vesmir, No. 115; president, Karel Pekraek; secretary, Ferd Pecival; financial secretary, F. A. Swehla. Ant. Dvorak, No. 135; president Jos. Petracek, Jennings; secre- tary, Jos. F. Pavlicek, Oberlin. Ellsworth, No. 189; president, Fr. Dolecek, Ellsworth; secretary, Step. Sekavee; financial secretary, J. M. Vondra. Now, my dear reader, I do not mean to tire you by spreading here the constitution, by-laws and ritual of this great organization. It is too lengthy and dry for any one not directly interested — it covers sixty-two pages. But if any person is interested he can get a copy free for the asking — in either the Bohemian or the English language, or he can see a copy in the library of the Kansas State Historical Society. Do not think that Bohemians are a very clanish people. Not at all — we are on the whole pretty good mixers. I'll point to one instance which can be proved by records. There are a half dozen or more American societies, lodges, clubs, companies, churches, corporations, etc., in Wilson, and you will find Bohemians in nearly all of them. Years ago when a lodge of the A. 0. U. W. was started in Wilson they extended their recruiting among our people and soon had started a regular stampede, the like of which we could never get up in one of our own national lodges. In a short time they had more Bohemians than our own lodge, which had been struggling to increase its numbers for many long years, and with but small results. Bohemians mix 22 Kansas State Historical Society. everywhere, learn all languages, travel to all countries, practice all trades, and possess all vices as well as virtues. We have here plenty of organizations, and still the most useful or necessary may be lacking. But there is no scarcity of noble, exalted, high-sounding principles in any of them. And if those principles were practiced fully by all of the human family we would not need any more lodges or organizations, nor even all of those which we already have. In 1904 there came into our grand society of C. S. P. S. a disruption, causing a withdrawal and the founding of a new order called the Western Bohemian Brotherly Union, Zapadni Cesko-Bratrska Jednota. At the present writing this order has a membership of 18,055. The lodge of Antonin Dvorak of Z. C. B. J. was organized at Wilson on June 10, 1904, by Dr. J. P. Pecival, with twenty male and fifteen female charter members. The first officers were: past master, Ferd Pecival; president. Dr. J. P. Pecival; vice president. Marie Veverka; secretary, Joseph Tampier; financial secretary, John Hoch: treasurer, Josef Libal; guide, Jan J. Florian; inside guard, Josef Hoch; out- side guard, Amalie Tobias. On January 1, 1914, the same lodge had seventy-two male and fifty-two female members. The following were elected officers: past president, Zdenka Cevny; president, John Helus; vice president, Marie Stehno; secretary. Ferd Pecival; financial secretary, J. H. Cerny; treasurer, F. A. Swehla; guides. Fr. Bohata and Marie Hoch; guard, Anton and Vaclav Brant; trustees. Jos. Zbornik, Fr. Kaitman and Frant. Bohata. I must now break the thread of my story about organized societies to intro- duce a further statement relating to early settlements, so as not to omit our brethren from Moravia. The Moravian brothers have from the earliest European settlements in the New World left "their footprints on the sands of time." As Moravia is located to the southeast of Bohemia (Cechy), so their settlement in Ells- worth county occupies the same relative position to our Bohemian settle- ment. The first families from the unhappy land of Moravia came to the settlement in 1878, from the village Pisarova, near the town of Schilburg, de- partment of Olomouc. They were Josef Macek, Fr. Kroboth, Fr. Jilka, and Jan Steiner. From Hustopece, near Brunn, Moravia, came Martin Hoffmans and Karel Urbanek. These six families came via Bremen, Germany, on the ship Leipzig, arriving at Baltimore, Md., in sixteen days. The above-named families were the first direct from Moravia. Other settlers arrived from Ringgold county, Iowa, among them the Dolerek brothers, Leopold and Vit, both having large families. Leopold settled in Russell county, near Dubuque; Vit Dolecek, in Noble township, Ellsworth county, adjacent to the Moravians. I am informed that there are but three Americans in all Noble township, the rest of the inhabitants being Bohemians or Moravians and their descendants. It should be stated here that our colony did not buy land collectively, but individually. The greatest possible freedom of action prevailed. No indi- vidual was bound to any taxation or cast-iron rules of subordination. That would increase the hardships of pioneer life. On the contrary, a helping hand was always ready for the needy as far as was possible. No attempt was made to introduce Old World methods of dividing land. No settling in the old method of villages. The American way of living, each on his farm land, we made our way; the only deflection being of not build- Bohemians in Central Kansas. 23 ing beside the public road in all cases, but rather seeking other conveniences. But that may be excused in many instances by citing the fact that there were no roads, public or private; in most cases the first settler made the virgin tracks — both footprints and wagon roads. In the year 1878, direct from Stoupnice, Litomysle, Bohemia, came Vaclav Peterka, wife, and nine children, and settled on Cow Creek Flat, nine miles northeast of Wilson, in Lincoln county. All the family now live on farms. .Josef Satran and his brother, Benjamin Satran, settled in that same neighborhood about the same time, but they came from the state of Wisconsin to this settlement, and took up homesteads. .Josef Satran located on the southwest quarter of section 32, township 13, range 9, in Golden Belt township, Lincoln county. HdMK of .JoSKl'H I'K'IKHKA. LINCOLN COl/NTV. KANS.AS. Our early settlers were not very conspicuous by their dress, as our mode or style of dressing does not differ from the rest of the civilized people of western Europe or the United States. A great many of our people speak the German language. Many Germans settled in Bohemia since A. D. 1310, when John of Luxemburg was elected King, and they increased very much between 1620 and 1648, during the reign of anti-reformation or the Thirty Years' War. The long list of teachers of Bohemian descent is good evidence that our people believe in universal education. I am indebted to Prof. H. Coover, superintendent of public instruction of Ellsworth county, for the following list. Many of the teachers named have taught in other counties and states than ours. F. J. Swehla, Victor Swehla, Romeo Swehla, Katy Krachy, Mary Knakal, Josef Jedlicka, John Dlabal, Mary P^alb, Anna Falb, Rose Jarus, Edward F. Jarus, Albina Dlabal, Josef Vesely, Mary Kolacny, F. G. NovaA;, Albina Hanzlicek, Mary Hanzlicek, Anges Hanzlicek, Emma Zavod- nik, Matilda Vaiiasek, Amelia Varta, Theresa Varta, Vaclav Cipra, John S. Schdnilec, Rose Kejr, Mary Vani.s^ Louis Ptaoek, Eleanor Soukup. 24 Kansas State Historical Society. Helen Soukup, Bessie Soukup, Emma Cipra, Josephine Koci, Pauline Koci, Pauline Cipra, Leona Doubrava, Lydia Kejr, Edna Dolecek, Josef Novak, Esther Karban, Nina Stehlik, Edward Artas. A list of Bohemian graduates from the Wilson high school is here sub- mitted: 1890, John Tobias, now a practicing lawyer. 1891, Frank Jedlicka, dead; John Dlabal, farmer. 1893, Mary Knakal; Henry Tobias. 1897, James Somer, merchant. 1898, Rose Straka. 1900, Mary Sibrava; Albina Dlabal, school teacher. 1901, Ernest Tobias; Emil Jedlicka; Kamila Vafiasek and Matilda Vafiasek. 1902, Vlasta Sekavec. 1903, Emma Zavodnik and Rose Jarus. 1904, Mary Vanis. 1905, Anna Falb, school teacher; Albina Hanzlicek, school teacher; Rose Vancura; Del Zeman, druggist, and Louis Ptacek, school teacher. 1907, Joe Vanis, butcher; Richard Zeman, druggist; Mary Hanzlicek. 1908, James Brouk and Jas. Jarus. 1909, Charles Brouk. 1911, Helen Sekavec, Eddie Jarus, and William Peterka. 1912, Esther Karban, Edna Dolecek, and Adolph Hanzlicek. 1913, Frank Miegl. At present we have thirty young Bohemians who are college students at Kansas University and the various colleges of the state. Some fourteen or fifteen others have gone to institutions outside of Kansas. EAST SCHOOL DISTRICT No. 10, ELLSWORTH COUNTY. Business life in the settlement in early days is of a good deal of interest, and I shall touch upon it briefly. Ellsworth had been a shipping point for Texas cattle, and central Kansas had furnished free pasture land for the cattlemen. Stores in town had on hand such things as were in demand by the herders, or cowboys: saddles, blankets, revolvers, knives and camp cooking utensils. But when I asked for a stone sledge in John Bell's hardware store in Ellsworth Captain Hoseman told me they did n't keep them on hand. It was the same thing when I asked for a road scraper and a cross-cut saw for two men. These articles had to be sent for. The cross-cut saw was needed to saw up the trunks of the many dead cottonwood trees left rotting by wood-choppers, I presume during the building of the Kansas Pacific railway. But as the new settlers began to flock in, crowding out the "long-horns," the merchants began to change the character of their goods in stock. And Bohemians in Central Kansas. 25 in June, 1875, I was able to buy even a Kerby self-rake reaper that John Bell had let a near-by farmer try out. The next year, 1876, "Centennial year," Mr. Martin Honomichl went to Salina with his team of horses and brought home a reaper, the Walter A. Wood "self-rake." Many settlers followed his example and bought the same kind. This harvesting machine was favored by our pioneers because it made a nice, square, compact sheaf, ready to be bound by hand without having to rearrange it. Our first implement dealer, Jan Tobias, wisely kept these machines for sale until binders and headers put them out of market. In the fall of 1875 I bought the only wheat drill John Bell had, and, as far as we knew, no other merchant in our vicinity had one for sale. It was the Hoosier drill with grass seeder (for which we had no use), costing $85. I loaned it to everybody far and near, even as far as eleven or twelve miles; and it was the same way with my reaper. Jan Tobias, who was a shrewd business man, soon began to keep Hoosier drills for sale. Joseph Tampier, a young lad of promise, clerked for Mr. H. Stassen, and later for Mr. Nesmith, thus getting a good training in merchandising. His father, J. F. Tampier, becoming lonesome on his farm in Russell county, without a wife, sold the farm and bought a little grocery store in Wilson, where Mr. Jacob Fowle had kept post office, groceries, and sometimes fresh meat. Soon after Tampier bought the store he had the old rotten building torn down to make room for a large stone building, which later he enlarged. Besides this store room Tampier built another adjoining it on the east side. Just east of Tampier's second store building the "Sokol" club built the opera house, or what is more frequently called "Turner Hall." Mr. Tampier donated the cost of the west wall of this building, besides giving a ten-foot strip the length of the lot, so that our "Sokol" club might have more room. The contract for the building was let April 29, 1901. It has a frontage of fifty-three feet, is one hundred and three feet long, and two stories high with a nine-foot basement. The stage has a curtain opening of fourteen by twenty- two feet, and floor twenty by fifty feet. The gymansium under the stage is twenty by forty-nine feet, with a fourteen-and-a-half-foot ceiling. The seating capacity of the hall is five hundred. The building has furnace heat and electric light and its approximate cost was $15,000. The Bohemian athletic organization, analogous to the German turn- verein, is named "Sokol" (Falcon). Vincent Hubalek, a young Cech fresh from "Ceske Vlasti" (our native land), full of enthusiasm and energy, organized a club of Sokol upon his arrival here in 1892, and in a short time they were able to give public exhibitions of their skill and strength at picnics held in the groves on the banks of the Smoky Hill river. The first "Sokol" club was organized at the Bohemian Hall in the country, located at the northeast corner of the southeast quarter of section twenty- two, Noble township, Ellsworth county. The second club was organized at Wilson, Vincent Hubalek being the first training master for both clubs. In 1896 was built our National Hall at Wilson. For it was used the best building rock — the magnesia limestone found on the bluff's dividing the watershed between the Saline and Smoky Hill rivers. The Wilson "Sokol Karel Jonas," was the second club of athletics, and they undertook the building of the hall. They secured donations of many kinds from both countrymen and merchants of Wilson, countrymen generally donating work, 26 Kansas State Historical Society. hauling the building rock from the quarries, scraping out the basement, etc. The merchants, besides subscribing money, donated articles of merchandise for the "Bazaar" conducted by the "Sokols." Nevertheless a great in- debtedness remained on the hall after all efforts to raise money were ex- hausted. And this indebtedness was a greater burden than the net proceeds from all sources could bear. This being exclusively a farming community, everything depends on the farmer and his products; and in this part of the "foot-stool" we do not 'get a bumper crop every year. When the crops are short the farmer is prone to make some retrenchments; then all other enterprises, except banks and loan agents, have a shrinking profit. So it came to pass that "Sokol Karel Jonas" was in imminent danager of a mortage foreclosure, the building to pass into private hands. To prevent such a disgraceful event lodge Vesmir No. 115 of C. S. P. S. came to the rescue by becoming joint owner, raising money by soliciting more subscriptions as loans on long time, and also securing an extension of time on the mortgage indebtedness. Later on the joint societies admitted a third society to become a joint owner with them, lodge "Antonin Dvorak," of Z. C. B. J. This last lodge was to contribute a sum of money sufficient to pay for the completion of the building and the finishing work. The three societies joining saved the building, and now the mortgages have been wiped out. Most of our people settled on the raw prairie and made farm homes of it. Very few had ever farmed before. They were in most cases of some mechanical craft, and had to take their first lessons in agriculture under the tutorship of Experience. The most needed trades here in the beginning were blacksmiths, masons and carpenters; to these may be added shoemakers, well diggers and tinners. Anton Somer, a member of our colony, ran the first blacksmith shop in Wilson. In 1878 Vaclav Zavodnik came from Iowa, and started a blacksmith and wagon shop, which he is still running. His nephews, Frank and Fred Michaliceks, came from the mother country, and learning the blacksmith trade from their uncle, ran the north side black- smith shop for some years. Josef Kalina started a blacksmith shop in Ellsworth in the '70's, he being the first Bohemian resident there. Another Bohemian, Frank Varta, was a tailor in Ellsworth. Anton Slechta, from Chicago, 111., was the first Bohemian shoemaker in Wilson, but was soon followed by Frank Kucesa from Allegheny, Pa., who ran a shoe shop after Slechta turned to farming in Noble township on the northeast quarter of section 17. Both are now gone, which shows how shops are driven out of business by factories. In the track of the victorious march of industrial development we find the ruins of former handicrafts and trades. The only one I think of now that has not been ruined is the barber. So we had Karel Jadrnicek to ply the tonsorial art in Wilson, but he moved to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and Mr. Vocasek officiates in his place. Owing to the large number of settlers who preferred to speak their mother tongue, and many of them had no choice in the matter, all the merchants in town employed clerks of Bohemian nationality. Now many of those former clerks are storekeepers themselves; as Joseph Tampier, Frank Knakal, Anton Somer, J. W. Somer, Frank Gregor, Mike Somer, James Somer. In the bank we have J. F. Tobias as cashier, and Ferd Pecival, jr., bookkeeper. The Bohemian business men in Wilson are as follows: Jos. Pelishek, now Bohemians in Central Kansas. 27 postmaster; Tampier & Knakal, groceries and hardware; Fred Sekavec, groceries; Tampier, Somer & Kyner, dry goods and clothing; Frank Gregor, dry goods and clothing; Anton Somer, hardware; Hoch Brothers, lumber; Jarus & Ptacek, groceries; W. W. Klema, farm implements; Frank Klema, garage and auto cars; Vaclav Vanis, meat market; Frank Zernan, phar- macy, drugs; Jos. Vocasek, barber shop; Smetana, meat market; Mrs. Cipra, Central Hotel; George Richter, notary public; Joseph Kvasnirka, manager of farm elevators; Jos. Resabek, thresher and repair shop; Frank Vlcek, thresher and brass band leader; J. H. Cerny, music teacher and cigar maker, also local editor or agent of a paper, Kansasky Pokrok; Albert Miegl, agent and reporter for KanKOf