The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1876-04-06
A BLACK HILLS SKETCH.
Starting n Graveyard at Custer-Lfttfe
Charley H0It's Sad Death-A Prinli-
tive Funeral Ceremony.


Death demanded a sacrifice. A grave.
yard had to be started in Custer. Nc
one had volunteered to die, and no ruff
fan had offered sacrifice. Fate led
Charley Holt and John Picket across
the plains from Sioux City, and Hope
and Ambition induced them to 4" drive
their stake" upon the southern slope in
the suburbs OF Custer. Poor boys
they were not yet men, and their COM
bined fortune and earthly effects would
not reach FIVE dollars in value. They
selected a town lot upon the side of a
grassy knoll, close to small grove of
straight, tall pines, and, being unable to
chop large logs or buy lumber with
which to construct a habitation, dug a
cave. They call them " "dugouts !"
here, but better name would be
" deadfalls,'' for they are little else.
These boys made their deadfall eight
feet square, covered it with pine brush,
propped this up with eight small poles,
threw on several tons of earth, and
went to bed to dream of home,, of
mother, of father and of the fortune
they, in their boyish imaginations, had
already carved out of these golden
realms. When morning came (yester-
day morning, March Sd, sad sight
was revealed to the young man who
went to the dugout to borrow shovel.
The Angel of Death had been there in
the night and had buried the sleeping
boys alive. A faint, piteous voice be-
meath this living grave broke the icy still
ness of the frosty morning, crying out,
'1n Gods name, pull me out! 1 am dy-
ing" The boy who had come to bor-
row a shovel fled in horror from the fa-
tai spot, calling loudly for help, which
came from all directions-frem fifty cab
ins in the gulch. A dozen yeoman arms
delved down and tore away the cruel
earth which had already clasped and
claimed one of these boys as its own,
and which had Rugged and pressed in
its icy embrace, for eight long hours,
the struggling survivor. The story told
by the mangled and mutilated youth is
brief one. He told it to me while gasp
ing in agony and pain, stretched upon
a couch of pine boughs on the hillside.
"We finished our 'dug-out' yester-
day, and went down town to beg for
work or flour. We had eaten up our
last grub. Charlie-that's my pardner
-staid at home to fix up things and fin
ism digging out the chimney. Iwent to
the miners meeting at Swearenger's
saloon, and came home about ten
O'Clock and went to bed. When | woke
up l was buried, but | had one hand
free, with which l scratched away the
dirt and brush and got air. Then all
was dark again, and after awhile | woke
up. | could see the stars and the moon,
and heard Charlie calling for me to
help him. | tried to move, but the dirt
came tumbling in on my face; so, L quit
Then Charlie said, johnny, / am dy-
ing; write to my mother Icalled out
Charlie, can't get out; God help you;
we must die!' Then all was dark again
That's all | know, sir, till just now. Is
Charlie dead?"
Yes, Charlie was dead! His crushed
and mangled body was dragged out of
the debris few minutes afterwards,
and borne down the hillside to de-
serted soldiers cabin, on Custer Street,
and laid out upon a plank placed upon
two logs.
Then came the inquest-irst held in
the Black Hills. 1t was a queer scene.
There stood the City Marshall tall,
rough, honest man, with bronzed-brown
face and telr-stained eyes, a pair of
navies on his hips, but gentle as lamb
in the face of death like this.
The Coroner, miner, with grizzled
beard and hard, grimy hands, stood by
the body with book in his hand. Two
doctors just arrived that morning from
Platte County, Mo-, looking more like
tramps than professionals, stood by
awaiting. A reporter, a Jewish cloth
ing dealer, saloon keeper, lawyer,
and two miners constituted the jury,
which sat itself upon a log, which
insisted upon rolling over every two
minutes. The inquest was brief; the
reporter organized the jury, swOre them
in, elected the evidence, made the
verdict, and founded the first official
archive for the city. The verdict was
" accidental death from suffocatiOn,"
that was all, and material was ready
with which to start a grave yard in
Custer.
Then came humane hands and kind
hearts and dressed the unfortunate
stranger. Charley Fahey found white
shirt, (the only one in the city), sheet
was converted into shroud, and Char
ley Holt soon lay in a rough pine box
upon a bier of logs. This was not all.
A fire was built in the corner of that
black, deserted cabin, the roof opened
to allow the smoke to escape, and then
half dozen noble men sat and watched
until daylight. They were bound to
start a graveyard. With the rising of
the sun came ladies-yes, ladies, kind
hearted pioneers who had woven a
wreath of pine twigs, winter ivy, pine
cones and four little fragments of white
tarlatan and pieces of the black silk
strings of Mrs. Drogmond's bonnet.
This wreath was laid reverentially upon
the unpainted pine-boX; it was all these
five noble-hearted women could do, and
they did it well. But still the grave
yard was not inaugurated. Here was a
corpse neatly shrouded, wreathed, and
cOilined, and no graveyard; but site
for city graveyard was found-a nat
ural cemetery already planted with
groves of trees, and laid out by Nature
into broad, irregular avenues, all sodded
and half green. Cascades ornamented
with glittering icicles lent their aid to
the frosted evergreen foliage and snow
white grotto of quartz to beautify the
newly selected site for the city of the
dead. A half-dozen brawny athletes,
with pick and shovel, tore open
the virgin sod, and made the
grave. They were generous sections,
these amateurs, and sunk hole like
unto mining shaft. 1t was at least
twelve feet 1ong-this grave for the
lf-grown boy. But the trouble was
only half over. Who would act as par
SON? There is no preacher in Custer,
and two hours canvass of the city
failed to find professor of religion.
Think of it! Here was city without
one protesting Christian, among three
hundred people. Worse than that, a
close search failed to find 3 prayerbook.
The Mayor, honest man, appealed to
one of the two lawyers in the city to
''say few words at the grave, to be
/ n L. l.-A Il 4