The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1904-08-19

The following is letter written by
John ]. ingalls, from Sumner, the
town started five miles from Atchison,
in the early days and long since de-
serted. The letter was written to In
gals father:
Sumner House. Sumner, K. T.,
October 5, 1858,
Dear Father:-I closed my letter
this morning rather abruptly to catch
the mail, having just landed myself in
that Promised Land, supposed to be
flowing with milk and honey. My no.
lions never having been particularly
exaggerated, I was not surprised at
not hndfng Boston or New York.
MI Wheeler had not arrived and I
proceeded at once to the hotel, from
which my letter is dated, a house
whose. floors are as destitute of car
pets as its walls are of paper or its
table of decency. 1t is quite a large
building-resemb les its representation
in the photographic fiction which was
shown me more nearly than any other
feature of the "city." The two lower
stories only are completed, the upper
being merely lathed, and if guests
choose to take one of these a reduction
of 81 per week is made in his bill. the
price the being 81, instead of IS per
week. 1t is a rude. unfinished struc-
ture, with no pretenSions to comfort
or convenience. 1t is situated at the
summit of the bluff" on which the
city is located and is reached by a
rude street of the most prepOSterous
grade imaginable. 1t is immensely
steep; more like the roof of a house
than anything else 1 can compare it
to, and SO quilted with rains, SO inter-
spersed with rocks and the stumps of
trees, in many cases several feet high,
that a New Hampshire teamster of
ordinary temerity would shun the task
of traversing it. The few carts that
go down invariably descend with
chained wheels.
VI L. -. I@4
which has any pretension to a grade,
the others being merely footpaths lead
ing up and down the wild ravines to
the few log nuts and miserable cabins
which compose the city. None of the
premises are fenced, the whole place
being open to the incursionS of dogs
and pigs, which exist in large numbers
and seem, in fact, to constitute the
greater amount of the population.
1t was election day yesterday, and, of
course, 1 had an excellent chance to
see the inhabitants and judge of their
character and condition. They appear
ed without any exception to be a shah
by. addressed, unthrifty people, most
like the inhabitants of the Irish quarter
of a large city, wearing upon their
countenances a look of il1-concealed
discomfort akin to deSpair-as If writ
ten over their hearts was the legend
tabled by the italian poet to be in
scribed above the gates of hell: ''All
hope abandon we who enter here"
stead of four. as was represented to me.
No respectable residences, no society,
no women except a few wOe-begone,
notwithstanding old creatures; no me
activity; nothing which would
seem to indicate a large and intelligent
energy; no schools; no children; moth
ing but the total reverse of the picture
which was presented to me. On the
engraved romance a college, was i'm
aged, of which no person here of whom
have inquired mas even so much as
heard the idea advanced. There was
also a large and elaborate machine
by a rickety old blacksmith's shop,
carried on by a decrepit niger.
did not anticipate the clean and
healthy thrift of a New England viii
lage, nor the noisy splendor of a metro
polls. but I am quite unable to convey
to you any definite idea of the disap
pointment, not unmingled with anger
and modification, with which 1 con-
wish 1 could give you a photograph of
the place but new western village is
truly indescribable in language. 1t can
only be compared to itself There are
perhaps 200 houses here, 20 or 80 of
which are visible from any one point,
some without windows and doors. some
without chimneyS, some without shin
giles or clapboards, nearly all without
cellars. and situated on heaps of stones
or stumps of old trees. and distributed
without any regard to order or regu- |
larity. 1t is so unlike anything 1 ever |
saw or dreamed of that 1 am not yet |
to say whether 1 shall like it |
Or not. My ideas must change some |
what first.
There is apparently no trade, no COM
nercial exchange with other states or
other parts of the territory; no conf
mission business; no reshipment or for
Narding, and the few small grocery
shops seem to contain only those ar
.icles demanded by wretched and des-
itute population.
Half a mile back of the bluff the
country expands into an undulating
prairie, well watered and somewhat
heavily timbered: I walked to the
'wells yesterday, and could hardly
hink, except with a strong effort of
that L was in Kanzas. Before
ne flowed the muddy Missouri, choked
With sand and snags, beyond which
pread the heavily wooded bottom,
everal miles in width, to the forest
covered bluffs which limited the east
I'm horizon. On either hand were the
lither shores of the river and the cab
ms of Sumner" while westward ex-
ended the vast grassy spaces, unfenc-
d and unpeopled, SCARED with a few l.
ray wagon trails till the eye could no
onger comprehend it in the autumn
inted distance.
have made some very pleasant ac- ]
uaintances since 1 left home One
Gentleman from St. Louis in particu-
ar, whom 1 met upon the boat and !
vas with two days, till he landed for
tour through the wilds of Missouri,
rom whom I parted with sincere re-
ret. There was also on the boat a
Dung fellow with whom I conversed ,
early an entire day, not knowing his
anne, till he mentioned the place
here he resided when I asked him if I
e knew one of my old classmates who {
sed to live there. To my surprise, it !
roved to be his brother. He was
raveling with his father, a gentleman
Ugh in the legal profession in New
rork, to whom he introduced me, and t
through him I obtained an introduce I
ion to Judge Johnson of Leavenworth, I
nth whom 1 had a long conversation :
n matters in KanzaS.