Allerton and Axtell Read online

  ALLERTON

  and AXTELL

  THE RUSH

  GARY LEE MARTINSON

  ALLERTON AND AXTELL

  THE RUSH

  Copyright © 2017 Gary Lee Martinson.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  ISBN: 978-1-5320-1823-7 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5320-1822-0 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5320-1821-3 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017905361

  iUniverse rev. date: 05/12/2017

  Contents

  Foreword

  Special Thanks

  Chapter 1 The Heat Of the Night’s Light

  Chapter 2 Conspiracy to Save Ginger

  Chapter 3 Two Legends Are Born

  Chapter 4 The Seed of a Dynasty

  Chapter 5 National Fame Comes Home

  Chapter 6 Stable Mates Go Head to Head

  Chapter 7 Terre Haute

  Chapter 8 Building for The Future

  Chapter 9 The Fastest Track On Earth

  Chapter 10 Building A Reputation

  Chapter 11 A Mother’s Mystery

  Chapter 12 The Teacher and the Student

  Chapter 13 The Greatest Race Meet Ever

  Chapter 14 Allerton Meets Nancy Hanks

  Chapter 15 King of the Stallions

  Chapter 16 A Date On Race Day

  Chapter 17 Losing The Driving Force

  Chapter 18 Face to Face

  Late Notes

  Bibliography

  Foreword

  Charles Warren Williams

  Allerton and Axtell

  John Hervey in a 1947 book called, ‘The American Trotter’, illustrates the magnitude of the story of Charles Warren Williams in the following paragraph. This paragraph appears in chapter thirteen, ‘Five Great Modern Progenitors’, it gives you an idea of how compelling the story of Allerton and Axtell is.

  Throughout the entire range of horse history of all times and countries, no series of episodes is at once so striking, so unique, and of such enduring interest as those in which C. W. Williams and his two stallions Axtell and Allerton played the leading roles. A sweeping statement, perhaps, but one which examination will uphold, as a “success story” in its own department it has no parallels.

  As I investigated this story, it was apparent that this story involved much more than Charles W. Williams and his horses, but also the city of Independence and surrounding area. My intention is to take you back in time and actually walk the dirt streets of Independence, living the exciting times in the late 1800’x.

  Charles W. Williams, had business interests throughout northeast Iowa in the 1880’s. He traveled from town to town to oversee his business using the main mode of transportation, the horse. His interest in breeding better horses for this type of travel, prompted him to purchase the best mares he could afford and bred them with the best stallions he could afford. He personally raised and trained his first two colts named Allerton and Axtell.

  I didn’t want to make this a historical documentary, so I novelized it through the eyes of a fictitious character to connect the history of a man, two horses and a city. The fictitious story is intertwined in the amazing true events. However, the fictitious story is representative of living events that took place in those times.

  In the book, there will be many articles read by a group of prominent businessmen, these articles are reproduced in the book, as they were actually printed by the newspapers depicted. These prominent businessmen were involved with the events that took place.

  Many of the buildings depicted in the book are still standing. It always delights me to see them; Kings Hall, the Wapsipinicon Mill, the Williams Mansion, Axtell’s barn, the Railroad Depot, nearly all the buildings downtown were there. I enjoyed the privilege of writing the true and fictitious parts of the novel. I hope that you will enjoy reading it.

  Special Thanks

  Mary Lou Lawless

  Leanne Harrison

  Ellen V. Foland

  Bud Hall

  Lucille Hall

  Amanda Jo (Martinson) Allen

  Janet Jentz

  Deb Auer

  Buchanan County Genealogical Society

  Independence Public Library

  Heartland Acres Agribition Center

  Buchanan Historical Society

  Buchanan County Tourism

  Winthrop News

  I also would like to thank my publisher for giving me this opportunity. I did refuse the offer to line edit this book. If there are any problems or issues with the contents of this book it is my responsibility alone.

  I also would like to thank my daughter Kim for the book cover design.

  Chapter One

  The Heat Of the Night’s Light

  In the early morning of May 25th 1874, the small town of Independence Iowa silently enjoys a peaceful night. The Fenny family of three soundly sleep in an apartment above their business, ‘Fenny’s Dry Goods’. The night sounds of crickets and rustling trees in the wind was broken by the haunting yell, “Fire! Fire!”

  The thirty-year-old Albert Fenny and his wife Molly were startled out of their sleep. Albert threw the blankets on top of Molly and sprang out of bed. The alarming cry had come from the dirt street below the apartment. In his night shirt, Albert stumbled to the window overlooking the dark street. With his sleeve he cleared away moister condensation on the glass. He could see an orange glow reflecting on the buildings across the street. Grunting in frustration, he raised the window sash.

  A man in the street saw him peering out. “Albert! Get your family out. There’s a fire in the next building!”

  Albert noticed several people in night clothes gathered in the street. He turned to his wife. “Molly, get Gilbert and get out as quickly as you can!”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Molly squealed. She frantically untangled herself from the bed linen and ran to the baby Gilbert’s room across the hall.

  Albert grabbed his wallet off the dresser and made his way toward the door. Suddenly he remembered the money pouch which contained the day’s sales. He ran his hand through the top drawer of the dresser, until he grasped the pouch. He grinned at the weight of the coinage
in it. Then made his way to the smoke filling stairwell. As he sprinted down the stairs to the street, he called out, “Molly, Molly!” but heard no reply.

  As he burst out into the street, he could see smoke billowing from their bedroom window, Molly’s eerie silence tearing at his soul. In panic for his families safety, he sprinted back into the stairwell, just as flames burst out from walls at the top of the stairs. He raised his left arm over his face to shield it from the intense heat. He called frantically, “Molly! Molly! Once again there was no reply.

  As he was about to thrust himself through the flames, a voice below penetrated his thoughts, “She’s here, Albert!” He stopped in his tracks and quickly retreated down the steps. The man held the door open as Albert bolted out onto the street.

  A bell rang frantically on a fire wagon being pulled by two large white horses. The wagon was driven by the cities’ Fire Chief, stopping in front of Fenny’s Dry Goods store. Men jumped off scurrying around the fire wagon.

  Flames could be seen inside the Café south of Fenny’s Dry Goods store. There were flames crawling up the side of the building like a snake. The fire spread quickly to several buildings.

  The window in a General store suddenly exploded spraying flame, wood and glass into the street. People standing in the street screamed and dashed away.

  The Chief yelled out, “You people need to move back!”

  A man stuck his head out a second floor window. “There are two women and a baby up here.” The people below stood dumbstruck. The man retreated back into the building. A mattress was pushed out the window and fell to the street below.

  “Who is it Albert?” Molly asked her husband.

  “It must be James Holt and his family.”

  “Oh, my dear, and their baby.” She coddled her own child.

  Two men in the street spread the mattress out under the window. It would be a risky jump, but it was their only hope. Soon another mattress was shoved out the window. The men arranged it on top of the first mattress.

  Soon a woman appeared crouched in the window, her feet on the sill. A man below shouted, “Land on your bottom!”

  She didn’t hesitate and threw herself out of the window landing perfectly on the mattress. Two men helped her off the mattresses. “Catch my baby, please.” Before they had time to think, a baby was dropped from hands protruding out the window. One of the men leaped onto the unstable mattress and caught the baby. He fell off balance onto his shoulder as he turned the baby upward to protect it from the fall. Albert and another man had run over to assist as the next women jumped out of the window.

  She landed on her fanny and bounced, “Oh my,” off the mattress onto the dirt street. Then Mr. Holt landed on his butt bouncing majestically to his feet.

  The fire chief worked diligently to get the fire wagons boiler pressure up. Everyone was frustrated at the time lost, while the fire continued to grow. The majority of buildings in town were made of wood, which burned easily.

  A woman boisterously said, “We need to get a bucket line going.” The people watching the fire rage, joined in with a bucket brigade.

  “Frank,” The fire chief instructed, “Take your wagon and get the buckets at the fire station.” Frank had earlier hitched up his horse to deliver milk and eggs.

  With her baby held tightly in Molly’s arms, she and Albert stood watching their business and home burn as if the fire was spouting out like fire from a dragon. The fire was unstoppable as it spread from building to building.

  The city had recently purchased the Clapp and Jones Fire Wagon, however the pressure gauge had not yet been installed. The city engineer Dick Guernsey stayed with the wagon regulating the pressure as best he could or it could explode killing him and many nearby. He often yelled at people, “Get away from the boiler, she could blow.”

  More people began to gather around in the street dressed in a variety of night gowns and robes. Most of the men took the time to grab their overcoats, but many still wore slippers and of course, their hats. The women and children were being herded away from the burning buildings. Many went to the Montour House hotel. The Montour House was far from the fire and was considered a safe place to support the growing number of homeless.

  “Molly,” Albert said in a shaky voice, “take Gilbert to the Montour House. I will stay here to do what I can.”

  “Check with Mrs. Carlisle, she isn’t getting around very well.” Molly requested. Mrs. Carlisle was an older woman living in an apartment a few buildings down from the Fenny’s. She was a daily visitor to the Fenny’s store.

  “Right,” Albert agreed. Albert looked through the crowd in hopes to find Mrs. Carlisle, but he did not see her.

  Many residents from buildings in jeopardy gathered their possessions and moved them to the steel main street bridge spanning across the Wapsipinicon River. The bridge was considered to be a safe place.

  The flames were big and spreading quickly making the firefighters feel helpless. The fire was engulfing the dreams and aspirations of their fellow townsmen.

  “Joseph,” the fire master yelled, “move the boiler to the Wilcox Building. Wet down the shoe repair shop.” They determined it would be best to get ahead of the fire. The crowd was growing hindering the fire fighting.

  The buckets arrived in a fast rolling wagon that skidded as it rounded the corner down Chatham. Albert yelled out, “Let’s make a line to the river!” Albert directed people to make a line. “Take those buckets to the river,” he directed the wagon, “quickly everyone!” He looked back at his store and could see it was engulfed in flames. But, other buildings could still be saved.

  The Fire Chief noticed ashes from the fire floating to the roofs of buildings across the street, but there was nothing anyone could do. The fire continued to spread toward the iron bridge. When ashes began to fall onto the bridge, everyone began to move belongings from the bridge across the river in front of the Wapsipinicon Mill. As the fire continued to grow, panic and confusion spread among the people.

  The spray of water often got blown back, showering the crowd. People screamed as they scattered and left the area. The fire chief, a civil war vet, sarcastically smiled and shook his head, “Good shooting boys! That’s how ya break ’em up!”

  “Chief, how did this thing get started?” A man asked.

  “Mrs. O’Leary’s cow came to visit,” he replied. The man chuckled slightly, knowing the chief wasn’t sure how it started. The chief was obviously referring to the Great Chicago Fire that had taken place just a few years earlier.

  The attempts to stop the fire were in vain. The roof tops of nearby buildings were catching fire. There were urgent telegrams sent to nearby cities of; Jesup, Quasqueton, Winthrop, Fairbank and Hazleton for assistance. It was feared that the attempt to get fire fighting equipment from the nearby townships would be too little, too late.

  It was hoped that the three story brick Wilcox Building, would act as a fire break. But the fire went around it and eventually engulfed the Wilcox Building as well. The line of the bucket brigade was hindered by the ever-changing and expanding fire.

  The efforts to contain and subdue the fire, were gallantly undertaken by owners and firemen. Despite their efforts, it was not enough to stop the fire from continuing its destructive force.

  The crew of firemen from Jesup Iowa, were running their horses from the west into town. As the sky in front of them began to lighten, they could see the flames glow in the lingering smoke above the city. The driver laid the reigns down on the horses, “Come on Robby, come on Jibbers!” He yelled.

  As they entered town, the sun peaked over the eastern horizon. They could see the destruction. “Oh my God,” Joshua Mills said as he gazed upon the black ashes left by the fire. There were beams burned black leaving a skeletal remains of a robust town’s business district. There were silent, dazed people wondering through what was left of their homes and businesses.r />
  As the fire wagon from Jesup rolled down Main Street, people looked up in blank stares. Their eyes followed the wagon, Joshua felt they were being chastised for being late. He felt emotionally drained and ashamed they hadn’t got there earlier.

  A woman was sobbing as she struggled to lift a charred piece of wood from the middle of the wasteland. She looked up at the fire wagon, her face blackened with soot, her hair wild, straggled, blowing across her face. Her dress was dirty and tattered. She had a bonnet hanging from it’s strap around her neck.

  A baby, that was set up in a fruit basket, began to cry. Molly turned toward her baby and slowly walked over to it. “It’s all right Gilbert.” She picked up Gilbert with what appeared to be all the strength she had.

  Joshua in the fire wagon continued on through the ruins in search of a fire they could put out. There was a great deal of smoke ahead. “Hey,” a man yelled to them, “This way. They are trying to stop the progress at the court house. Joshua used the whip on the tired horses, they responded as best they could.

  No one had been seriously injured in the fire, but the economic losses were staggering. The city was left without many businesses needed in order to survive as a growing and prosperous city. The big question is would the people of this city rebuild or will there be a mass exodus.

  Many of the businesses had some insurance, but none received enough to completely cover the loses they sustained. The citizens of Independence pulled together, and the people stayed.

  By late July 1874, there were over thirty new brick buildings being built in the downtown area, including along Chatham street. The buildings strongly resembled each other, with great ornamental designs and arched windows. They were generally two story buildings of similar dimensions with a few three story buildings scattered among them. They were built of brick and concrete exteriors, possibly with thoughts of fire prevention a main concern. Many of them had exits through the back of the buildings. More buildings were built the following year. Independence was the most modern city in Iowa, in 1875.