Northwest enterprise. [volume] (Anacortes, Wash. Ter.) 1882-1887, 1883-04-28
COL. SELLERS.
The Man from Whom Mark Twain Drew this
Famous Character.
OPERATIONS OF OLD BILL MUL
DROW IN THE WILDS LOF
MISSOURI.

DROW IN THE WILDS LOF
MISSOURI.
The writer has seen several sketches
purporting to be of the original Col.
Sellers. Having been reared near
the birthplace of Mark Twain and
the home of the celebrated Col. Null
berry, he takes the liberty of saying
that, although some of the peculiari
ties ascribed to that individual may
have been obtained from the afore-
said originals, yet the original C2l.
Sellers has never been written up.
He was William Muldrow. commonly
known as Bill Muldrow. He was u
farmer and speculator near Philadel
phia, Mo. Philadelphia was then a
village of few inhabitants and is still
a mere Postoffice.
Bill Muldrow was the first man who
conceived the idea of a railroad con-
Meeting the valley Of the Mississippi
with the Pacific slope. BY some
course Of reasoning known only to
himself, Ire reached the conclusion
that Philadelphia could be made the
future great city of tho West, if not
of the world, and with this end in
view he perfected his plans for the
building Of a railway that was to
have San Francisco for its western
terminus, and for its eastern terminus
Marion City, a boat landing on the
Mississippi about fifteen miles east
of Philadelphia Fully persuaded
that there were millions in it," he
went East and confided to few cap
italists his plans for buying up cor
ner lots by the acre and selling at
$4,000 per front foot in connection
with this railroad scheme.
What sort of talker he was, and
how well he succeeded in imbuing
these capitalists with his own en-
thusiasm, may be imagined when we
state that the sound of the hammer
and saw, and the steady tramp of the
hod carrier in tie lanes of Philadel-
phia soon succeeded the musical
tinkle of the sheep bell. A fine
brick hotel climbed story by story to-
ward the clouds. Blocks of build
ings rose faster than men could or
would flock to occupy them. A
wharf was erected at Marion City,
and the embankment that was to
reach from the Mississippi west to the
great city of Philadelphia, and still
west to the golden gate of the Pacific,
was began. Things were booming,
but it was a surface boom. Deeper
down there was a heavy undertow.
Large sums of money were re-
ouired. Mulberry's hackers, begin
ming to mistrust the financial success
of the scheme, became more niggard-
ly in their advances. AS the expenses
became heavier, the money with
which to meet them grew less, and as
little by little, they fell behind, the
army of bricklayers, the horde OF
laborers on the embankment, and the
pile drivers and bridge builders of
Marion City, for like Venice it was
on the water, became more clamorous
for their pay. -.
The crash came, as in such cases it
inevitably must come. Bill Muldrow
was ruined financially, but as he soon
had occasion to demonstrate, not In
tellectually. The Sheriff, preparatory
to making n levy, called on him for an
inventory of his real estate. Bill was
equal to the occasion. He gave in
not only his own land, but inter
spersed between tracts much that was
not his own. Now, Muldrow, like
many other unfortunate men. was
blessed with sons.in law, and to these
he coniided his scheme and asked
their assistance He described his
own land minutely and instructed
them when to bid.
The sale came off. The first tract
offered did not belong to Bill, and
this soon became whispered around.
The result was that the bidding was
very slow, and the sale was about
paralyzed. The sons-in-law scooped
in the bona fide tract for a paltry
sum.
Having saved his farm, Bill went to
California, where he enga ged IN
some kind of land speculation, and
where his fondness for lawsuits be.
came proverbial. A ten minutes
conversation with him invariably re-
suited in suit at law. Failing to
retrieve his fortunes in the West, he
returned in his old age to the scene
of his former triumph, and his ashes
now rest in the country churchyard
near his old home.
Philadelphia still stands. relic,
not of what was, but of what might
have been. The hotel looms up, gray
and grand in it's utter desolatlon.
The window glass is broken, the
walls are cracked, the ceilings are
mildewed, and tho very bricks seem
crumbling back to the dust from
whence they came. -,
Marion City found a grave mid
the swirling waters of the Mississippi
in the great food of 81, but the en-
bankment and the old rock bridge
still fight their share of the battle
that always ends in oblivion.