HomeMy Public PortalAboutBoise, Idaho: HistoryBy ARTHUR A. HART
Director, Idaho Historical
Museum .
Planned in 1863, the town of
Middleton was platted and
filed in 1865. attd got its post
office in 1866: ; -,
Its name no doubt refers to
its location halffivgy between
Boise and the .terry at the
mouth of Boise River, as well
as the fact that it wa4tW the
middle of an area of new
ranches and farms.
In 1868, "Uncle John" Egg -
leston is complimented in The
Statesman for having built
"the best farmhouse in the
territory" at Middleton.
An early description of Mid-
dleton as a town appeared in
The Statesman in February,
1$69 `MiddleGpn�is thriving —
Caldwell's rapid promotion
and growth, it is no wonder
that Middleton, just a few
miles away, felt the impact
even more.
Not getting the railroad
erased much hope that a
large city would 'ever develop
there, and led some of the
principal business men to
move out.
The Middleton photographs
reproduced here recall the
boost to local hopes and pros-
perity brought about by the
coming of the interurban rail-
way in 1907.
By that time Middleton also
was on a branch line of the
Oregon Short Line running to
Horseshoe Bend and being
continued northward to
McCall.
Middleton's depot had a
novel situation at the inter-
section of the streetcar and
railway tracks, as these two
early views of it show.
While these photos were at
first thought to be of separate
buildings, the unusual shape
of the drooping awning can be
seen in both. The station han-
died both freight and passen.
gers, and was neatly fitted
into the space where the
tracks crossed.
Both f reight and passenge'' s were handled at the "promising" station
A
dleton as a town appearea m
The Statesman in February,
1869. "Middleton is thriving —
has two stores, a blacksmith
shop and wagon shop, and a
butcher shop going up, and
everything looks lively."
Through the years it be-
came the habit of Judge Mil-
ton Kelly, editgr of The
Statesman from 1872 onward,
to take leisurely rides down
the valley to observe farms,
visit with the farmers, and
describe the progress he
noted.
He was a shrewd observer,
Nvell -read in agricultural mat-
ters, and fond of making sug-
gestions for improving meth-
ods and production.
Middleton's greatest claim
to fame in the early years
was easily the grist mill
erected in 1871. "Mr. A. Pack-
ard, from the flourishing little
burg down the river, informs
us that the frame of the Mid-
dleton flouring mill will be
raised this week.
It is the intention to have it
ready to grind the coming
harvest." In November, 1871,
the first ad for the new mill
appeared in the paper, listing
as proprietors J. M. Stephen-
son of Middleton and J. C.
Isaacs of Boise.
Isaacs was the brother of
one of Boise's principal mill-
ers, H. P. Isaacs, operator of
the War Eagle Mills.
In March, 1872, S. S. Foote
came to Middleton to run the
mill. He eventually owned it,
and had a partnership with
Packard. Their principal busi-
ness was in flour freighted to
the mining camps, but they
also ran one of the two gener-
al stores in town.
The other was operated by
Humphrey and Gwinn. The
town now boasted a hotel and
saloon in addition to the other
establishements listed for
1869.
Because the mill ditch, di-
verted from Boise River, had
become a stream half as big
as the river itself, there was
constant flooding and difficul-
ty in getting from the town to
the mill across the slough
which separated them.
Starting about 1880 the town
was gradually moved piece-
meal across to the mill side.
The coming of the Oregon
S h o r t Line in the early
eighties was a blow to Middle -
ton's importance in the lower
Boise Valley, since the main
line ran south of the river,
and the town of Caldwell was
established as a new com-
mercial center.
Considering the fact that
even Boise was uneasy about
Streetcar and rai i racks once intersected at the Middleton depot
DO NOT REMOVE FROM LIPID- RY
PAYETTE LAKES
PROGRESSIVE CLUB
Wholesale killing of game birds
prompted imports of new types
By ARTHUR HART
The introduction of new spe-
cies of game birds into Idaho
was tried very early, prima-
rily by sportsmen who wanted
to improve the hunting.
In late 1870 there was an ac-
tive Boise Valley Quail Associ-
ation, organized to import and
establish populations of bob-
white quail in southwestern
Idaho.
James Slater, spokesman
for the group, told The Idaho
Tri- Weekly Statesman that he
was going to release 39 Mis-
souri quail at noon Jan. 3, 1871.
The paper called the birds
"little feathered proteges" of
the club.
On Feb. 4, 1871, another ship-
ment of 75 bobwhites arrived
by stagecoach. All but 11 of
them survived the long and ar-
duous 1,500 -mile trip in the
dead of winter.
"The association have now
turned loose, altogether, 118 of
these famous music makers
and worm destroyers," The
Statesman said.
The new game laws enacted
by the Legislature in the 1870-
71 session were printed in the
paper on March 30, 1871.
From reports published ear-
lier, it is clear that the supply
of wildlife was being seriously
depleted and needed protec-
tion. Even with the new laws,
the slaughter was prodigious,
most people not yet appreciat-
ing the need to conserve what
seemed like a boundless re-
source.
In December 1881, a man
was selling wild ducks on
Boise streets for 25 cents
apiece. He had a wagonload of
ducks and geese he had shot
along the river, and claimed to
have killed 49 of them with
only six shells.
The Statesman didn't ques-
tion this boast, suggesting that
ducks were astonishingly plen-
tiful.
An .1882 report said the post
surgeon at Camp McDermitt,
Nev., had killed 92 sage grouse
in one day. No wonder game
laws were needed, or that
sportsmen began seriously to
import and propagate quail
from the East.
Early sage hen hunters near Delamar
H.C. Riggs, principal
founder of Boise and the man
who successfully led the fight
to establish Ada County and
move the capital from Lewis-
ton to Boise City in 1864, told
the Emmett Index in 1906 that
he had introduced Missouri
quail to Idaho in January 1871.
Whether Riggs was a mem-
ber of the Quail Association or
imported the birds privately is
not clear. In either case, the
date is consistent.
Cyrus Jacobs, another of
Boise's founding fathers, re-
ported in 1891 that bobwhites
were plentiful on his ranch at
Middleton and that they were
"descendants of some he im-
ported over 20 years ago."
These too could have been
part of the group mentioned in
The Statesman in January and
February 1871.
Ring- necked pheasants
reached the Pacific Northwest
from China in the 1880s. The
first mention of their introduc-
tion into Idaho is in 1892 when
William H. Ridenbaugh re-
ceived some eggs in May
which he hoped would be
hatched "by a gullible hen."
Many pheasants were re-
leased in Idaho after the turn
of the century. State Game
Warden W.N. Stephens gave
15 birds to Twin Falls County,
which liberated them in April
1909.
Kamiah had turned loose a
shipment of Willamette Valley
pheasants in 1904.
Public officials themselves
sometimes failed to realize
that times were changing for
game and its management.
Newspapers seemed to ap-
plaud the 1897 exploit of Attor-
ney General McFarland and
state Treasurer Storer when
they shot 200 ducks in one day
on Snake River near Black-
foot.
,(Arthur Hart is director of
the Idaho Historical Society.)
Ear/yEditors
Were Bullish
On Environment
Although many Idaho pion-
eers exploited fish and wildlife
in a manner shocking to mod-
ern residents, there were a few
far - sighted individuals who un-
derstood the importance of
preservation and propagation of
these resources.
James S. Reynolds, founder
and first eidtor of The States-
man, frequently blasted the un-
thinking men and boys who
killed robins, meadowlarks, and
other small birds in the vicinity
of town. Calling it "a cruel
sport," Reynolds wrote in 1869
that an eminent naturalist had
declared that agriculture would
be impossible without the help
of the birds. "A pair of spar-
rows have been known to carry
three hundred worms to their
nest in a day," Reynolds point-
ed out.
"In this country, which is
overrun one year by crickets,
the next by grasshoppers, and
the following probably by the
two combined, it behooves us to
do all in our power to preserve
the lives of our innocent and
useful birds."
The following spring, Rey-
nolds again complained that
people were still killing the
songbirds. "There is neither
sense nor wisdom in their
slaughter: it is done only to
gratify a taste for killing some-
thing."
Like many other Americans
of his time, Reynolds felt that
agriculture would be further
benefited if more bug- eaters
were imported. He praised the
recent introductions in New
York of English sparrows "at
great expense," and thought
Idaho -
Yesterdays
By Arthur Hart,
the cost well worth it. Only
gradually did people come to
regard the sparrows as a mixed
blessing.
In 1881 another Statesman
editor noted that "Ogden and
Salt Lake are pleased with the
number of English sparrows in
those towns. It won't be long
until they will wonder how to
get rid of them, for they be-
come the veriest pests in the
world in a very few years after
introduction. We hope no one
will be public spirited enough to
bring them here."
When the English sparrow ar-
rived in Boise in 1888, apparent-
ly by migration and gradual ex-
pansion of its range rather than
by introduction, The Statesman
accepted the newcomers with
at least a touch of optimism:
"Those who remember the con-
dition of the trees in the east —
covered with caterpillars' webs
and denuded of leaves — will
give the little bird some
credit."
Other birds were imported to
Idaho too, mainly by sportsmen
who missed their favorite game
birds from former homes in the
east. Bobwhite quail were first
brought here in 1870 by the
Boise Valley Quail Association,
a group dedicated to giving
Idaho the benefit of "these fa-
CY JACOBS
... imported quail
mous music makers and worm
destroyers." Thirty -nine were
"emancipated among us" in
January 1871, and an additional
sixty -four in February. The
Statesman was fond of calling
them "the club's little feath-
ered proteges."
Cy Jacobs, one of the original
members of the quail associa-
tion, told a Statesman reporter
in 1891 that there were plenty
of quail "down the valley"
descended from those he had
imported twenty years before.
Jacobs had a ranch near Mid-
dleton at that time, and
Bobwhites are still seen in the
area today.
In 1891, W. H. Ridenbaugh of
Boise was reported to be trying
to get some Chinese pheasant
eggs hatched "by gullible
hens." Birds brought from
China had been introduced into
Oregon's Willamette Valley in
the mid- eighties, but the first
serious efforts to introduce
them to Idaho were made in
1904 at Kamiah and Weiser.
(Mr. Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society.)
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director, Idaho Historical
Museum
The newspaper ad battle
between Joseph Perrault
and Peter J. Pefly really got
warmed up as 1881 drew to a
close. Perrault had started a
saddle and harness shop on
Main Street in competition
with Pefly's "Pioneer" es-
tablishment and had started
a newspaper campaign
which forced the older busi-
ness to respond with ads of
its own.
Calling himself "the anti-
monopoly league," Perrault
lit into Pefly's shop with in-
sinuation and open ridicule.
Speaking of his own estab-
lishment, he said "the rea-
son of this great success is:
No machine harness made in
this shop — all work done by
hand. No sewing with a big
awl and small thread. No
harness or other work made
on which we are ashamed to
put our name or trademark.
No lying about our neighbors
to make sales."
Pefly, who had been gone
for several weeks on a buy-
JOSEPH PERRAULT
... power of advertising
ing trip came forth on Dec.
10, 1881, with an ambitions
ad of his own. It gives us a
picturesque catalog of what
such shops sold in those
days.
"Notice is hereby given
that in a few days I will ex-
hibit to the public 25 tons of
Saddlery, consisting of all
kinds of firstclass Leathers,
Collars, Robes, Blankets,
Hardware and 20 different
styles of the best Saddle-
trees made on the continent,
and the finest assortment of
Cow Boy Bits, Spurs,
Bridles, Reins, Reattas, Seal
Skin Chaps and Saddles ever
seen north of San Francisco.
Also a splended and select
lot of fine Horse Brushes,
Feather, Hair, Jute, and Pi-
ano Dusters, and in fact ev-
erything usually found in a
first class establishment in
my line, in any country. All
of which will be sold at such
prices as to defy all com-
petition."
Then, taking direct aim at
Perrault, who featured the
Denver Manufacturing Co.
line of "famous" iron saddle
horns,, Pefly said he was
closing out cheap "a lot of
old stock ... consisting of
Iron Horn Saddle - trees,
made by the Denver Manu-
facturing Co., Brass Dog Col-
lars, Dog Muzzles, wire and
leather, English Saddles,
and other articles of like
character."
If Pefly chuckled at the ef-
fect this would have on his
MAJ
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director, Idaho Historical
Museum
The newspaper ad battle
between Joseph Perrault
and Peter J. Pefly really got
warmed up as 1881 drew to a
close. Perrault had started a
saddle and harness shop on
Main Street in competition
with Pefly's "Pioneer" es-
tablishment and had started
a newspaper campaign
which forced the older busi-
ness to respond with ads of
its own.
Calling himself "the anti-
monopoly league," Perrault
lit into Pefly's shop with in-
sinuation and open ridicule.
Speaking of his own estab-
lishment, he said "the rea-
son of this great success is:
No machine harness made in
this shop — all work done by
hand. No sewing with a big
awl and small thread. No
harness or other work made
on which we are ashamed to
put our name or trademark.
No lying about our neighbors
to make sales."
Pefly, who had been gone
for several weeks on a buy-
JOSEPH PERRAULT
... power of advertising
ing trip came forth on Dec.
10, 1881, with an ambitions
ad of his own. It gives us a
picturesque catalog of what
such shops sold in those
days.
"Notice is hereby given
that in a few days I will ex-
hibit to the public 25 tons of
LI
Saddlery, consisting of all
kinds of firstclass Leathers,
Collars, Robes, Blankets,
Hardware and 20 different
styles of the best Saddle-
trees made on the continent,
and the finest assortment of
Cow Boy Bits, Spurs,
Bridles, Reins, Reattas, Seal
Skin Chaps and Saddles ever
seen north of San Francisco.
Also a splended and select
lot of fine Horse Brushes,
Feather, Hair, Jute, and Pi-
ano Dusters, and in fact ev.
erything usually found in a
first class establishment in
my line, in any country. All
of which will be sold at such
prices as to defy all com-
petition."
Then, taking direct aim at
Perrault, who featured the
Denver Manufacturing Co.
line of "famous" iron saddle
horns,. Pefly said he was
closing out cheap "a lot of
old stock ... consisting of
Iron Horn Saddle - trees,
made by the Denver Manu-
facturing Co., Brass Dog Col-
lars, Dog Muzzles, wire and
leather, English Saddles,
and other articles of like
character."
If Pefly chuckled at the ef-
fect this would have on his
rival, his mirth was nipped
in the bud. Somehow Per-
rault got wind of the con-
tents of the new ad even be-
fore it was printed and ran
his rebuttal in the same col-
umn on the same day. (Poli-
tics probably played a part
in the battle, since Perrault,
like The Statesman, was Re-
publican and Pefly was a
Democrat).
Since Pefly's ad mentioned
25 .tons of new goods, Per -
rault's mentioned 26 tons. He
also said that "the old pio-
neer monopolist says these
goods are not so good as his,
you know, but the public is
respectfully invited to come
and see for themselves." He
then launched once more
into his sarcastic "It was
very mean of Perrault to
start an opposition store,"
etc.
While Pefly's Dec. 10 ad
ran without change for the
rest of the month, Perrault
came up with a new one on
the 15th headed "Horse
Sense," featuring a cartoon
woodcut of a comical horse
wearing glasses. "Put on
your goggles," it read, "and
read carefully the old mono-
polist's vaporing and you
will observe that he ac -,
knowledges that he can't
compete in a legitimate way
with the anti - monopoly
store."
A woodcut cartoon also il-
lustrated Perrault's blast of
Dec. 31 — a long poem by
himself entitled "The Old
Pioneer Monop's Lament."
Whatever effect Perrault's
campaign had on Pefly's
business, it did not hurt his
popularity. Only a few years
later he was elected mayor
of Boise.
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Boy printer put in long hours at newspaper
A.J. Boyakin
John G. Foster, whose 1877 diary
has just come to light, was a teen-
age apprentice printer learning his
trade in the traditional way. After
a few months with the Idaho Tri-
Weekly Statesman he went to work
for A.J. Boyakin, a renowned pio-
neer "typo" who had worked for a
dozen newspapers and started a
few of his own.
"Jud" Boyakin started work on
his latest venture "The Idahoan"
at the end of April 1877. He had an
old Washington Press (like the one
in the State Historical Museum)
and a teen -age apprentice.
Success with a new newspaper
depended heavily on Boyakin's
ability to secure advertising, find
capital or credit for paper and ink,
and to write and print each edition
on time. It also meant driving him-
self and his inexperienced help to
the breaking point.
On his second day on the job the
printer's devil worked 111/2 hours
distributing type. This was the
tedious but essential job of getting
all of the individual letters dis-
tributed into their proper spaces in
the type case so they were ready
for hand setting in the next issue.
The next day young Foster
began setting an editorial for the
first issue of the Idahoan. He
worked from 6 in the morning until
7 at night. Three days later he was
still setting the same editorial,
which he called "a description of
ddaho, its resources, etc."
"Jud is receiving a great deal of
encouragement in the way of adv-
"I do not know how this is writ-
ten."
The weariness of the boy can be
felt as he says "I have been on my
feet all day except when I eat my
breakfast and dinner." This was
one day before the first issue was
to be printed, and by next day, the
sense of excitement had mounted.
"There was a large crowd in the
office all the time. We got out the
first number of the Idahoan this
evening." Because of mechanical
trouble with the old press, Editor
Boyakin and apprentice Foster
worked from 5 p.m. until 10 p.m.
getting the first issue run. Next
day was spent in rolling and fold-
ing papers, and delivering them
with the help of his younger
brother George.
"I set up very near all of the
reading matter that there was in
the paper yesterday," proudly re-
corded the boy printer.
Next day "I went to work as fast
as I could distributing for the next
Idaho '" ,..
Yesterdays
By Arthur Hart
ertising," wrote his apprentice.
"He will have over two pages."
Next day, May 5, 1877, "I set for
awhile this forenoon and dis-
tributed all the afternoon. Another
day gone, and that editorial not fin-
ished. There will be about four col-
umns and a half of it." With press
time approaching, Foster worked
another long day on Sunday, May
6. He wrote that it is so dark as he
writes in his diary at bed time that
paper." From then on the office
routine is much the same until the
faithful diarist himself begins to
tire of writing the same thing each
day. He distributed type from one
issue, began setting for the next.
He helped run the press, and he
rolled and delivered the papers.
The process was repeated over
and over.
Another boy was hired for
awhile, but came to work drunk
one morning and "Jud turned him
off. He has not been seen in town
since." On press days young Fos-
ter usually worked from 7 in the
morning until 10 at night.
Printer's ink got into the boy's
blood, as it did to so many like him.
When he was appointed postmas-
ter of Baker, Ore., in 1918 he had
been running his own newspaper
and printing business there for
nearly 30 years.
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society.)
EPITAPH
PATRICK CONNOR , Ft. Boise cemetery marker for Connell
... Irish general
Ff. Boise Cemetery Marker's Epitaph's
Tell of Idaho -Irish Soldiers' Legacies
By AL DAWSON
"Wearin 'o the Green" on St. Patricks Day was very much in
evidence during the 1800s by members of the Irish nominated U.S.
Army stationed in territorial Idaho. On this one day, military au-
thorities overlooked the breach of regulations when Irish soldiers
appeared with shamrocks proudly attached to their uniforms.
These sons of Erin were a vital part of the ninteenth century
military, and it was their zeal that coined the phrase, "Fighting
Irish," long before it was adopted by Notre Dame in designating
their gridiron warriors. In Idaho, some of these men who traced
their roots to the Emerald Isle, were indeed outstanding. In the
Indian Wars two were given the Medal of Honor, and two military
commanders not only distinguished themselves on the field of
battle, but conveniently had themselves born in Ireland on ap-
propriately of all days, St. Patrick's Day.
During the Nez Perce War of 1877 when the military was humili-
ated following defeat after defeat at the hands of the warriors of
Chief Joseph; it was an Irish soldier who helped erase the tar-
nished image of the U.S. Army. He was Sgt. Michael McCarthy, a
non -com in charge of a troop of the U.S. 1st Cavalry. The troopers
on a fateful June day found themselves caught in an Indian am-
bush, cut off from their main unit, and outnumbered by the Nez
Perce eight to one.
All of his men killed except seven in the surprise attack, McCar-
thy nevertheless rallied his remaining force, directing them to a
clump of bushes, where they returned withering fire until their
ammunition was exhausted. As the Nez Perce closed in, there was
hand to hand fighting. Somehow the outnumbered troopers fought
their way clear and managed to mount their horses and attempted
to ride out. Two cavalrymen dropped from their saddles with bul-
lets in their backs. The remaining troopers crashing gun butts on
clinging Indian heads, miraculously were able to clear themselves
from the trap.
In the attempt, McCarthy's horse was shot from under him, he
scrambled to his feet, grabbed a dead soldier's mount, KOed an
attacking Nez Perce, and rode on under a hurl of bullets. Now,
completely alone, this Irish soldier galloped on with a howling
band of Nez Perce in hot pursuit. The sergeant was gaining on his
pursuers when this third mount was shot from under him, this
time McCarthy's leg was injured in the fall.
Still not giving up, as the war hoops of the Nez Perce came
closer this cavalryman managed to drag himself to a clump of
bushes where he hid. Seconds later the pursuing Nez Perce ar-
rived at the scene marked by the dead horse, then they fanned out
and started searching for their prey. The injured sergeant lay
quietly in the underbrush well concealed, except unknowingly his
outstretched injured leg was in view. Too late he discovered his
error, when a sharp eyed Nez Perce spotted the protuding black
boot. As the warrior walked toward the place of concealment. Mc-
Carthy managed to pull his injured leg out of the boot and was
able to drag himself away before the Indian arrived.
Then followed one of the most incredible bits of hide and seek,
as the injured soldier continued to elude his pursuers and was
eventually able to rejoin his company. For valor shown during this
engagement, Michael McCarthy was awarded the Congressional
Medal of Honor. Another Irish soldier to be decorated with the
highest award the United States is able to bestow, was Pvt. Jer-
emiah Murphy. This soldier of the 3rd U.S. Cavalry received his
decoration for action beyond the call of duty in 1876 against the
Sioux.
Gen. Patrick Connor, although stationed at Fort Douglas, Utah,
along with his troops, played an important part in Idaho territorial
history. His campaigns in southern Idaho, especially tracking ma-
rauding Indians, and supposed gold raiding Confederate guerrillas,
has almost bt_ome legendary. This Irish emigrant who rose from
a buck private to a general, was born on St. Patricks Day, March
17, 1820, in County Kerry, near the lake of Kilarney.
Perhaps the least publicized, yet most colorful Irish Indian
figher of them all in our territorial hostory, was Major Patrick
Connell. Strangely this career soldier, named after the patron
saint who supposedly drove the snakes out of Ireland around 432
A.D., was also born on the "old sod." Major Connell who is buried
in the old Fort Boise cemetery along with his family, was born in
Tipperary, Ireland on St. Patrick's Day, March 17, 1833. Emigrat-
ing to the United States as a young man, Patrick, followed the
pattern of many of his countrymen in entering the army.
He enlisted Feb. 14, 1855 and as a member of the 2nd Cavalry,
first saw service at Jefferson Barracks in Missouri. Pvt. Connell
was then sent to Fort Mason in Texas, where later he was to face
a traumatic decision. When the Civil War broke out the authorities
in this part of Texas, turned the military over to the Confederate
cause. Young Connell was offered a commission if he would serve
under the southern banner.
Patrick Connell after some soul searching, decided he owed
loyalty to the government that had admitted him. With this re-
solve, he secretly left the area and reported to the Federal Army
headquarters for duty. For his loyalty he was commissioned a se-
cond Lt.
Epitaphs on the markers to graves in the OLD Fort Boise ceme-
tery tell other stories of the military "Fighting Irish." In Memory
of Henry O'Brien, Co. H, 23rd Infanty, born in Limerick, Ireland,
died at Fort Boise, March 24, 1866, age 29 years; Bob Calahan, Co.
H, 23rd Inf., born Carn, Ireland, died April 17, 1867, age 25 years;
Lawrence O'Tool, Co. F, 1st U.S. cavalry. And there are many
others. A great number of them, we may surmise, proud of their
ancestory, would have appreciated a shamrock on their last rest-
ing place.
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director, Idaho Historical
Museum
Boise's streets in 1890
presented a wide variety of
scenes and attractions. For-
tunately for us, reading the
old newspapers 83 years lat-
er, there was so little real
news to record that the re-
porters put down all kinds of
picturesque accounts of
what happened along Main
Street.
Runaway horses were
common — sometimes re-
sulting in injury to humans
and animals, but most often
in damage to carriages and
wagons. The wheelwrights
could count on a steady
trade in repairs to vehicles
wrecked in this way.
The sheer volume of horse -
drawn traffic is reflected in
an item of November 4, 1890,
in which it was noted that in
one block on Main street the
reporter counted 22 teams
and 10 saddle horses, all
hitched to the rings in front
of business houses.
"Range stock in large
numbers are straggling into
town," noted a report of Sep-
tember, 1890, "and wander
about the streets in small
bands ... " This was a prob-
lem for the town marshal,
who passed the word that
these cattle would be im-
pounded and sold unless
their owners kept them con -
fined.
A large party of emigrants
from Missouri passed down
,Main Street in October, 1890
— part of a steady stream
that year. They camped
along the river south of the
bridge on Eighth street.
There also was a colony of
"squatters" at the other end
of Eighth, on Fort street, in
1890, consisting of ten fami-
lies living in tents. The hous-
ing shortage in the city was
further noted in the fact that
there were "a large number
of people living in tents and
covered wagons" in the
western part of town.
Tramps came to town fre-
quently in 1890. They were
promptly run out by the city
marshal, or arrested for va-
grancy.
The standard practice, for
either drunkenness or va-
grancy, was to fine the of-
fenders; since most could
not pay, they worked out
their sentences at two dol-
lars a day on the chain gang,
repairing the city streets.
Those who wouldn't work
were put on a diet of bread
and water until they got
hungry enough to do so. The
chain gang was thus a famil-
iar sight on Boise streets in
the Nineties.
Cowboys too sometimes
had to be arrested or run out
of town by the marshal
when they got drunk and
kicked up too much of a
fuss. They had a tendency to .
race their horses at break-
neck speed and fire their pis-
tols into the air — a tendency
the town would not tolerate.
One such buckaroo was
said to have been making
himself "altogether too nu-
merous." Of another, the re-
porter said he was "too
prevalent."
The corner of Eighth and
Main was still the city's
principal intersection in 1890.
The old Overland Hotel,
scene of the arrival and de-
parture of stagecoaches
since 1864, was also the"
scene of a public horse auc-
tars a day on the chain gang,
repairing the city streets.
Those who wouldn't work
were put on a diet of bread
and water until they got
hungry enough to do so. The
chain gang was thus a famil-
iar sight on Boise streets in
the Nineties.
Cowboys too sometimes
had to be arrested or run out
of town by the marshal
when they got drunk and
kicked up too much of a
fuss. They had a tendency to
race their horses at break-
neck speed and fire their pis-
tols into the air — a tendency
the town would not tolerate.
One such buckaroo was
said to have been making
himself "altogether too nu-
merous." Of another, the re-
poiter said he was "too
prevalent."
The corner of Eighth and
Main was still the city's
principal intersection in 1890.
The old Overland Hotel,
scene of the arrival and de-
parture of stagecoaches
since 1864, was also the
scene of a public horse auc-
tion in 1890. A number of
"street fakirs" also held
forth on the corner that fall.
Using showmanship and elo-
quence, they attracted large
crowds.
One had a ventriloquist as
an assistant, and another a
pretty girl. The products dis-
pensed included "nostrums,"
stationery, razors, and pen-
knives.
Ring- tosses at merchan-
dise was also lucrative for
the fakirs, and the whole
busy scene, was augmented
by an organ grinder who
played "Annie Rooney" and
selections from "The Mi-
kado."
Foot races at fifty dollars,
with the visiting "profes-
sional" giving the locals a
head start of three yards,
also separated a lot of Boi-
seans from their money on
the streets that year.
The "pro" always won
easily. "How many were bit-
ten on the foot race yes-
terday?" asked the States-
man next day. For most who
observed the Main street
scene in Boise City in 1890,
however, the entertainment
was free — and infinitely
varied.
The Overland Hotel at Eighth and Main saw an abundance of pioneer action during the Nineties
Horses brought beer to Frank Plentz's Shoshone customers in 1889
Germans cornered market
on, brewery trade in Idaho
Germans, not surprisingly, had a
corner on the brewery trade in
early Idaho. In nearly every com-
munity established in Idaho Terri-
tory there was a demand for this
staple beverage which some enter-
prising immigrant from the father-
land was soon in business to fill.
Leafing through the pages of
early directories we can identify
these men and their establish-
ments. Boise City had a trio of
well -known German brewers.
John Lemp is listed in the 1865
directory as proprietor of the
Boise Brewery, on Main street be-
tween 3rd and 4th streets. He be-
came the city's wealthiest citizen
and its mayor in 1875. Joseph Mis-
seldt and John Broadbeck were
successively proprietors of a brew-
ery near 6th and Main where the
new county building is now under
construction.
An 1889 directory of Idaho Terri-
Idaho
Yesterdays
By Arthur Hart
tory, published on the eve of state-
hood, identifies German brewers
outside the capital, in very small
towns as well as large: Albion's
Brewery was operated by John
Botzett. Henry Spielman held forth
at Bellevue.
Fred Albiez ran the brewery at
Challis — a stone structure now in
process of nomination to the Na-
tional Register, described in these
columns a few weeks ago. Nearby
Clayton, then a thriving place, had
the Koeninger Bros. & Co. Brew-
ery.
At Coeur d'Alene, William A.
Reininger slaked the local thirst
with the produce of his Rathdrum
Branch Brewery. Eagle Rock
Brewery, in the town of Eagle
Rock (now Idaho Falls), was man-
aged by Michael Weimann. Boom-
ing Genesee, only a year old, had 5
saloons and a brewery. The brew-
ers were Joseph Geiger and
Mathew Kambitch. They also ran
one of the saloons.
Von Berg & Schultz were the
brewers at Grangeville in 1889.
Hailey had a brewery and saloon
operated by John Hendel. Since
Hailey was on the railroad, his
local product was in competition
with imported beer.
The Salt Lake City Brewing Co.
maintained an agent in town
named Frank Bourgeois — obvi-
ously not German. Nearby
Ketchum had its own brewery,
named the Milwaukee Steam
Brewery. The proprietor had the
good German name of Robert Koe-
ninger.
Lewiston's brewery was owned
and operated by the Weisgerber
Brothers, Christ and John. They
also ran a saloon — a not uncom-
mon combination. Like John Lemp
in Boise, the Weisgerbers acquired
large real estate holdings. A Main
Street building in Lewiston's his-
toric district still bears their name.
McAuley, the post office for
Wardner Junction in the Coeur
d'Alene mining district, had a
brewery run by John Hermann,
even though the town had only an
estimated 500 people, according to
the 1889 directory. Moscow, with
1200 people, was booming as the
center of a great Palouse farm
area. The Legislature had just es-
tablished the University there. Jo-
seph Niederstadt ran the brewery.
In Payette the German -born
partnership of Jacob Hoffman and
William F. Stirm brewed the local
beer. Little Rathdrum in the north,
with only 250 people, had its Ger-
man brewer. Henry Reininger was
probably related to the William
Reininger who ran the Rathdrum
Branch Brewery at Coeur d'Alene.
Frank Plentz, proprietor of the
Shoshone Brewery, was the only
brewer to run a display ad in the
1889 directory. It is reproduced
here today since it shows so well a
horse -drawn brewery wagon of the
day. At Silver City the brewery
was operated by Fred Grete, and
at Weiser by Syvester Werneth.
Breweries operated by non -Ger-
mans were few. They were located
in Atlanta, Malad City, Soda Spr-
ings, and Wardner.
(Arthur Hart is director of the I
Idaho Historical Society)
Y �1I
In The
Statesman
"THIS IS THE BEST
SCHOOL BUILDING IN THE
STATE OF IDAHO," said T.
D. Cahalan, one of the school
trustees yesterday afternoon
to a reporter as they stood
on the walk in front of the
Washington public school
building in the north end;
and a visit to the school will
serve to convince most any
one that Mr. Cahalan is
quite right. The Washington
school house is not a large
one, there being only four
rooms in It, but it cost $8,000
and every dollar was ex-
pended with a view to the
health and comfort of the
school children.
While the building has but
four rooms, they are large,
and on each floor, extending
the entire width of the build-
ing, is a magnificent drill
room with a toilet and cloak
room. If necessary these
drill rooms could be used for
school rooms until an addi-
tion could be built, for which
Provision was made in the
construction of the original
building.
Besides the Washington
school the Whittier school is
almost barnlike. The latter
is barren and cheerless and
gloomy; the former is bright
as a dollar all the way
through. It is a much better
building in every way than
the Lincoln even. The
Central school building can-
not be compared to it owing
to its overmatching size, but
what there is of the Wash-
ington outshines the Central.
Picturesque characters often matched the picturesque names of Idaho saloons
Idaho saloons — picturesque, colorful
By ARTHUR HART
In 1902 Boise City had an Opera, a
Mint and an Arcade — all saloons.
For the lover of Idaho history who
also loves picturesque and colorful
names, Idaho's saloons have supplied
a rich and entertaining collection.
All three of the 'saloons listed
above were located on Main street.
"Pub - crawlers" of the turn of the
century didn't have to go far to make
the rounds, since there were 12 other
saloons on Main street alone. All
went by the names of their owners
except the Opera, Mint, Arcade,
Idanha, Capitol and the United
States.
The Overland was another famous
saloon, located at 8th and Main in the
Overland House since 1864. Overland
referred to the famous Overland
Road — the route of westward
migration from Oregon Trail days
until the 20th century. The backbar
and other furnishigs of the late 19th
century version of this famous drink-
ing spot are now installed itn he
Idaho Historicla museum.
In 1868, Main Street had saloons
called the Humbolt — named for the
route of the California trail across
Idaho
Yesterdays
Nevada — the Comet and the Rail-
road Car. This last name, suggestive
of the popular diners of the early 20th
century, reflected the building of the
transcontinental railroad — a job
completed May 10, 1869, with the
driving of the golden spike at Prom-
ontory Point in Utah.
. The Chicago was another Boise sa-
loon of the 1860s, and its customers
someties presaged the later gang-
land wars of that city by shooting up
the place. A character calling him-
self "the Montant Chief" demolished
the Chicago saloon in November
1869, leading The Statesman to state
editorially that "the days of Bowie -
knife braggadocio in Boise City have
passed away" and that such actions
should not be tolerated in future.
A list of saloons active in the 1870s
includes such picturesque names as
the Nonpareil, the Mount Hood and
the Crystal. Manuel Fontes, one of
Boise's early -day Mexican business-
men, opened for business at Riggs'
Corner, 7th and Main, in 1871 with the
name New Saloon.
Whenever a discussion of old -time
Boise saloons comes up, someone is
sure to recall James Lawrence's
Naked Truth. The name of the place
was explained by a sign in the bar
room that listed all of the evils of
drink and the horrible consequences
of patronizing the place. Customers
read the sign, nodded solemn and
sometimes tearful agreement, and
went on drinking.
The Bucket of Blood saloon made
the news with some regularity in the
1890s. Whether the name had any-
thing to do with encouraging it or not,
the Bucket of Blood was the scene of
frequent violence. A Statesman re-
porter described a typical evening in
the infamous place in an article of
June 30, 1892, in these lurid words:
"From all the dens in town, blear -
eyed females gathered to dance with
sodden -faced tinhorns. ... The cur-
tains of the den were drawn, but
from the recesses of the place the
screech of the music and the voice of
the caller could be heard.... It was a
'hard' crowd gathered together in a
'tough' place for a wild orgie — and
all on the main street of the capital of
the state of Idaho."
Other well -known saloons of the
'90s with notable names were the
Calumet, the Grotto, the Banquet,
the White House and the Are Light.
The Arc Light was operated by old -
time saloonkeeper Joe Kinney, who
chose the name for his newest place
to reflect the wonder of the age —
electric street lighting.
In 1915, a year before Prohibition
closed all Boise saloons, the city had
31 such places. In addition to several
already named above, there were
The Alcove, Bank Buffet, Bouquet
Bar, Brewery Buffet, Exchange Bar,
Irrigator Bar, Louvre Bar, Midway
Bar, Olympic Saloon, Standard Bar,
and Union Bar. Only the name Bou-
quet was revived with the repeal of
Prohibition in 933, and a new set of
names has come into use since that
time.
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society.)
Idaho
Yesterdays
German beer breweries
kept ldah,oans supplied
By ARTHUR HART
"Joe Misseldt's beer is
laughing at the approach of
warm weather," wrote The
Idaho Tri- weekly Statesman in
April 1877. "Two Statesman re-
porters tried it yesterday and it
illuminated their diaphragms
with irridescent (sic) scintilla-
tions and rain -bow colored cor-
ruscations. No more water for
Joe and us."
Joe Misseldt was one of the
many Germans in early Idaho
who brewed lager beer. In
fact, there was at least one
German - operated brewery in
just about every mining camp.
Contrary to the popular no-
tion that Idaho's cowboys and
miners were mostly whiskey
drinkers, there is little doubt
that most of them drank beer.
Boise Basin in the 1860s had
several breweries. One
operated by Fischer and May -
denbauer was appropriately
named Miners' Brewery.
In 1867 the Miners' was sold
to John Brodbeck and Louis
Rud. When Joe Misseldt fell
into his well and drowned in
1878, it was Brodbeck who
purchased his Main street
brewery from the widow.
John
Lemp
Misseldt was sorely missed
by The Statesman after his un-
timely demise, since his brew-
ery was next door to the news-
paper's office for many years,
and the popular fat man kept
reporters well supplied with
free beer.
John Lemp was even better
known than Misseldt, and a lot
more successful.
On the same 1877 day the
item quoted above appeared,
The Statesman ran this: "Yes-
terday, after a long walk over
the Park grounds by members
of the Association, it being
quite warm, J.L., the Beer
King of Idaho, was induced to.
take a drink of water.
"The look of disgust with
which he said, `Water will do
very well for irrigating and
mill purposes, but for a drink it
is too thin,' was quite comi-
cal."
John Lemp's brewery was
on the north side of Main street
where the Women's Club is
today.
In July 1868 he built a beer
cellar which must have been
quite a showplace. It was 16-by
42 feet with a vaulted ceiling of
local sandstone 11 feet high.
"The arch is a masterly
piece of workmanship," The
Statesman reported. "
Later that year John Lemp
was chosen first president of
the newly formed Boise Turn-
verein club, a German- Ameri-
can society dedicated to ath-
letic drill, singing in harmony,
and (you guessed it) drinking
John Lemp's beer.
In 1875, Lemp was elected
mayor of Boise. By the turn of
the century he was one of the
city's wealthiest men.
(Arthur Hart is director of
the Idaho Historical Society.)
IDAHO YESTERDAYS
Oldtime Boise Saloon's
Roared with Violence
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director, Idaho Historical
Museum
SaI.Ams were the most nu-
merous business estab-
lishments in most Idaho
t o w n s eighty years ago.
There were blocks in some
towns with more saloons
than all other businesses
combined.
This tells us something of
the tastes of the average
Idaho male of those days,
who was often a miner or
former miner, and decidedly
a product of the frontier.
Many Idaho men had come
to this part of the country
looking for gold, after having
already looked for it in Cali-
fornia.
They were used to knock-
ing about in a largely male
society, and to taking care of
themselves, come what
might.
By today's standards, those
so- called good old days were
pretty violent, and the aver-
age saloon saw more than its
share of murder, bloodshed,
and sin.
Alcoholism was common,
and drug addicts could be
found in every community.
There were always those who
got mean and troublesome
after drinking, and since
many of them carried weap-
ons, violence could be ex-
pected.
The Statesman commented
editorially on this problem as
early as 1872, when, it point-
ed out that "Drawing pistols
and knives, whenever a little
misunderstanding occurs, is
and has been too freely in-
dulged in in this city . "
Characters like 'Mogan the
Stiff" were regularly hauled
off to jail to sleep off their
jags, but others somewhere,
nearly every night, needed
the services of a surgeon,
clergyman, or undertaker.
Some saloons, like Boise's
famous "Bucket of Blood" on
�J
6
A
Main street, were notorious
for violence. The "Bucket"
made the news so regularly
... ionn ♦1..,♦ tt. _ mnc on in.
l i q u o r into case - hardened
stomachs.
"It was a "hard" crowd
gathered together in a
"tough" place for a wild
orgie — and all on the main
street of the capital of the
state of Idaho."
Two saloon pictures shown
here today suggest the atmo-
sphere of the average liquor
dispensary of the 1890's. The
interior view is of Al Rou-
let's place in the then bois-
terous railway town of Poca-
tello.
It is from the collection of
the Bannock County Histori-
cal Society. The other shows
Boise's Spider Web Saloon on
Main street between Seventh
and Eighth. Madison Smith,
one of the partners, is the
man in shirt - sleeves.
J a m e s Lawrence, the
s:ff>
other, is in the doorway be-
hind him. The faces and
dress of the motley - looking
crowd assembled for the pho-
tographer offer a cross sec-
tion of middle and lower
class Boise of that time.
A small boy, Chinese labor-
er, and an excessively shab-
by miner can be picked out
in this crowd.
* yt
Al Roulet, bartender and owner, pours a "tall one" in his Pocatello saloon
The Statesman commented
editorially on this Problem as
early as 1872, when it point-
ed out that Drawing pistols
and knives, whenever a little
misunderstanding occurs, I is
and has been too freely in-
dulged in in this city
Characters like '110gan the
Stiff" were regularly hauled
Off to jail to sleep off their
jags, but others somewhere,
nearly every night, needed
the services of a surgeon,
clergyman, or undertaker.
Some saloons, like Boise's
famous 'Bucket of Blood" on
�n
0
l�
_T/
Main street, were notorious
for violence. The Bucket"
made the news so regularly
in 1892 that there was an in-
dignant reaction in favor of
having it closed.
On April 5 it was reported
that "During the past week
there have been a number of
disturbances in the Main
street saloon known as the
Bucket of Blood." On Sun-
day night a number of log-
gers had a desperate "knock-
down- and- drag -out" battle."
On April 26, "A drunken
man became noisy, and some
Of the attendants felt con-
strained to knock him down
and kick him out into the
street. No arrests. , On June
30 followed this lurid descrip-
tion of a night in the in-
famous joint:
a dance B e
last night. From all
the dens in town, blear -eyed
females gathered to dance
with sodden -faced tinhorns,
-ithe revel being participated
fond by some young men whose
thought p the e n t s no doubt
away in bed. Y Were tucked
"The curtains of the den
were drawn, but from the re-
cesses of the place the
screech of the music and the
voice of the caller could be
heard; while ever and' anon
a lull would occur, during
which the crowd would re-
pair to the bar to pour vile
717
xians ran n Ign In vo re on prc
�
-�� \.
\
2
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a.
\
.
xians ran n Ign In vo re on prc
�
Saloons like this one were able to remain open after Boise's vote in 1909
Emotions ran high in vote on prohibition
By ARTHUR HART
"Oh the Drys, They Wipe Their
Eyes" read the Idaho World's head-
line on Sept. 10, 1909.
The pioneer Boise Basin newspa-
per was commenting on a local op
tion election held two days before in
which Ada County voted against pro-
hibition of alcoholic beverages.
Idaho's local option law had been
passed by the 1908 Legislature as
part of a national wave of progres-
sive reforms that included direct pri-
mary elections.
Although there had been strong op-
position to the liquor traffic in Idaho
before, with active temperance
lodges and church groups joining
forces, it was not until 1908 that the
reformers could crack the shell of
the saloon men by putting the issue to
a vote.
Local option allowed the voters in
each Idaho county to decide for
themselves whether they wanted sa-
loons or not — a simple majority de-
ciding the issue.
The Idaho World took a detached
and somewhat amused view of the
Boise and Ada County election after
the wets won by a substantial mar-
Idaho
Yesterdays ,
gin:
"Boise had both of her financial
eyes wide open. During the cam-
paign the winks between drinks were
knowing ones, and the Boiseites
whispered to each other, 'The adjoin-
ing -counties will all go dry and
streams of humanity famishing of
thirst will pour into Boise with their
pockets full of rocks and will stay
right there till the rocks are all left
within the sacred precincts of Boise
the Beautiful.' "
The campaign to decide whether
to close Boise's saloons had been a
fierce one.
Emotions ran so high that some of
the church people in favor of prohibi-
tion were accused of using dirty and
un- Christian tactics to discredit their
opponents.
Both Republican Gov. James Brady
and Democrat leader Moses Alexan-
der backed the "drys" in the local op-
tion election, but the Republican
Statesman backed local' businessmen
who felt that prohibition would upset
the city's prosperity.
In a long editorial on the morning
of the election, The Statesman said,
"Those who are urging the people of
Boise to vote 'dry' are simply urging
them to take a leap into the unknown.
There is positive assurance if their
advice shall be followed that condi-
tions will be seriously disturbed, with
no real reform as a compensation for
the loss the people will suffer.
"Boise is growing nicely. It is forg-
ing to the goal of real city -hood with
great strides. The outlook is bright,
barring interpositioly of some such
plan as the 'drys' propose. Why ex-
periment ?"
One example used by the paper in
its effort to persuade the voters not
to close the saloons was what had
happened when the reformers had
tried to close Boise's notorious red
light district, called Levi's Alley.
When the "alley" was closed, said
The Statesman, "it was hailed by
many well- meaning and sincere re-
formers as eradication of the evil.
But it turned out that it had only
spread over the city.
"There was no prohibition of the
evil. It flourishes today as before, but
away from police surveillance — in
the residence districts and in room-
ing houses. So it will be with relation
to the saloons. 'Blind Pigs' will suc-
ceed them and there will be as much
drinking, and under worse conditions
than now, if not more ...."
Boise voted "wet" by a ratio of 3 to
2, despite an edge for the "drys" of 4
to 3 in the rest of Ada County.
By 8W votes the county stayed
"wet" while her neighbors went
.'dry ,
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society.)
.. . ... ,
..» � .
Al wo
o wt
� >
:.�..�. .
OF
Ab I rAft :
zs.y�S 5;
Whiskey bought votes in early Idaho elections at such places as the above saloon
Whiskey decided many an election
By ARTHUR HART
Idahoans who think that they have
just lived through a fiercely con-
tested political campaign can gain
some useful perspective by looking
at some earlier ones.
In the so- called "good -old days,"
elections were often conducted in a
manner that would be unthinkable
now. Voters were bribed and bullied,
coddled and cajoled. Subtlety was al-
most unknown in the election tactics
of territorial days, and rival newspa-
per editors set the tone.
James S. Reynolds, editor of the
Idaho Trl- weekly Statesman (and a
Republican), called correspondent
P.J. Malone of the Democratic Idaho
World "a crawling and loathed rep-
tile." He called James O'Neara, edi-
tor of the paper "more of a sickly,
1
Idaho
Yesterdays
half- crazed object of pity than of con-
tempt."
A later Statesman editor, Milton
Kelly, wrote of another article in the
World that it was "a senseless dia-
tribe," and "a nonsensical effusion of
ravings" that sprang from a "foul
brain."
Insults like these were bandied
back and forth freely, but only rarely
led to physical violence between edi-
tors. Libel suits, amply justified
under today's laws, were unheard of.
When Idaho became a state in
1890, its new laws closed saloons on
Election Day. Before that, liquor was
prominent at all elections. In 1874, a
correspondent to The Statesman
from Weiser valley, who styled him-
self "Juneus Jinks," wrote the fol-
lowing account:
"Now that the election is over and
someone is elected and someone else
is disappointed, and all is quiet on the
Weiser, and all of the bad whiskey is
gone that the candidates shipped
down here to contaminate the ballot
box, I am prepared to write a few
lines to you. It is a lamentable fact
that there was gallons of whiskey
sent to this part of the country to con-
trol the election."
The writer rebuked anyone who
was so shameless that he would "try
to bribe his fellow countrymen by
sending such abdominable stuff to
control his election."
He urged 'every freeman who has
the bravery of a man about him" to
repudiate such tactics by voting
against the scoundrels to teach them
the lesson that "ballots are as mighty
as the sword in putting down those
who would ruin good government."
Gambling on elections was also
common. Even after statehood, The
Statesman could report in 1898 that a
number of prominent Boiseans had
placed bets in excess of $1,000 on
their favorite candidates.
An election abuse that is widely
charged, but hard to document, is
that political bosses voted names off
of tombstones. It is certain that
many men voted in early Idaho elec-
tions who were not legally qualified
to do so, whether any dead ones did
or not.
Election fraud was rampant in
June 1870, when 248 percent of all, "le -
gaily qualified" electors voted, set-
ting an Idaho record for voter turn-
out.
The situation had probably im-
proved by 1889, but the Wood River
News -Miner could still write of that
year's election that "anything wear-
ing hide, hair, feathers or hoofs could
vote."
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society.)
v.
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director
Idaho Historical Museum
Juvenile delinquency is a
subject of considerable con-
cern among the people of
any community. It is human
nature to feel that things are
getting worse in this regard
all the time, and it is some-
times instructive, if not reas-
suring, to look back to the
"good old days," to see that
many of our concerns have
been around a long time.
Boise's boys were appar-
ently more inclined to form
gangs of mischief - makers in
the old days than thdy are
today, judging by the num-
ber of complaints that ap-
peared in the newspapers.
Although some of this mis-
chief can no doubt be dis-
counted as pranks and natu-
ral exuberance on the part
of the young, some of it was
more serious.
In February, 1877, when
Boise held a firemen's ball
to raise money for a new fire
engine, the city turned out in
force. While applauding this
public support for a worthy
cause, The Statesman was
less happy about the number
of youngsters who should
have been home in bed.
"There were just one dozen
too many young Americans
around the door of Good
Templar Hall the night of
the party," complained the
editor.
In 1894, when the city was
in the midst of a wave of re-
form sentiment, consid-
erable concern was ex-
pressed about-the potential
harm to the young who
Just a year later, in Janu-
ary, 1900, a nearly identical
attempt was made on the
Cannon Ball train between
Boise and Huntington. The
theory was that some boys
planned to rob the train, al-
though that time there were
no captures. How many of
the boys had seen the pio-
neer motion picture "The
Great Train Robbery," we
wonder? It reminds us of our
present -day concern about
violence on television.
In 1904, The Statesman of-
fered another interesting
glimpse into juvenile prob-
lems of the day when it
wrote that "a considerable
number of young men are
accustomed to loafing about
the streets until such a late
hour that they are ashamed
to go home, and then sleep
in saloons the remainder of
the night. This practice has
been strictly forbidden by
the police, and the saloon-
keepers are cooperating with
the officers in an attempt to
keep the boys from devel-
oping into professional
bums. "
might be exposed to the ac-
tivities in Boise's red light
district. It was stated in so
many words that children
should never even see places
like Levy's Alley, let alone
ever walk through it. News-
paper and other delivery
boys did it regularly, of
course.
"Citizens are annoyed by
gangs of boys who break into
yards and steal fruit, break-
ing the trees and tramping
down flowers," wrote the pa-
per in August of 1894. "The
police will round up the
pests at the first opportuni-
ty." A few days later, a cur-
few was announced: "After
tonight, all boys under 16
years of age who are found
on the streets after 8 o'clock
in the evening will be ar-
rested."
There was further demand
for a strict law to control
delinquents in 1898, when
some "youthful miscreants"
derailed a locomotive in the
Boise yards on Front street
by pulling a switch. Railroad
employes complained that
the boys seemed completely
indifferent to warning_ s or
threats. In January, 1899,
three boys attempted to de-
rail the Oregon Short Line
pay car 6t /z miles west of
Mountain Home by wrapping
a logging chain around a
rail.. A section crew with a
hand car discovered the
chain and found the boys
hiding in the willows nearby.
p 2 �2-
IDAHO YESTERDAYS
Ferry Boats Traversed
Snakeat Many Places
By ARTHUR A. HART
Director
Idaho Historical Museum
Riding ferry boats across
Idaho's rivers was once a
commonplace experience for
travelers. There were ferries
on most of the principal roads
that crossed the big streams,
operated as were the roads
themselves for toll.
An unusual thing about the
ferries was that they operated
on such a simple principle
that the design remained vir-
tually unchanged for over
fifty years. Automobiles were
still crossing our rivers in
1920 on boats nearly identical
to those in operation in 1865.
There didn't have to be
changes in powering the ferry
boats, because the river cur-
rent did the work just as ef-
ficiently in the gasoline- engine
era as it had in horse and
buggy days. All that was
needed was a fixed cable
across the river, securely an-
chofed at the ends, a boat or
raft' with a fixed platform V
it, and a block and tackle ar-
rangement for adjusting the
angle of the ferry to the cur-
rent.
Pulleys attached to ropes at
each end of the boat rode
along the main cable as the
river pushed the boat across.
By having the front ropes
snubbed up short, and the
rear ropes let out long, the
operator could roll back and
forth across the river all day,
reversing direction by the
few turns of the wheel needed
to adjust the rope lengths.
A photograph of the Home -
dale Ferry, halfway across
the Snake River on its way to
the Canyon County side, iilus>
trates clearly how the boat
was angled to the current.
This ferry was replaced by a
new highway bridge in 1920,
as were a number of others at
about the same time, in-
cluding the famous Walters
Ferry on the road between
Boise and the Owyhee mining
!i
i
-L-
country: This ferry operated
from 1863, under a number of
owners, and was one of the
best -known and busiest in
Idaho.
The Henderson Ferry, south
of Caldwell on the Snake
River, was also operating in
the Sixties. Our early photo-
graph shows it in the Nineties
ferry could be towed back up-
stream such a distance, and
Emmett was without service
until the water level finally
went down.
Perhaps the most exciting
ferry ride taken in Idaho hap-
pened in the spring of 1907.
State Superintendent of Public
Instruction Belle Chamberlain
and State Librarian Louise
Johnson were crossing on the
Snake River ferry near the
new town of Twin Falls when
the ferry cable snapped, send-
ing the boat drifting help-
lessly downstream — right to-
ward the brink of Shoshone
Falls! "The man in charge of
the ferry boat was in-
experienced and lost his
head . " accused the States-
man, but lauded the coolness
and courage of two men
aboard who got thhe boat
ashore by capturing one of the
parted cable ends and hauling
it in before all went to their
deaths.
country. This ferry operated
from 1863, under a number of
owners, and was one of the
best -known and busiest in
Idaho.
The Henderson Ferry, south
of Caldwell on the Snake
River, was also operating in
the Sixties. Our early photo-
graph shows it in the Nineties
with a team and wagon about
to come ashore as three well -
dressed women sit in the
shade of a gravel bank.
T h e Eagle Rock ferry,
named for a rock in the river
where eagles nested, was six
or eight, miles above Idaho
Falls. It was another impor-
tant crossing of the Snake
River in the early Sixties, and
between that point and the en-
trance to Hells Canyon, 400
miles below, there operated
more than forty of the "en-
gineless" ferries through the
,years. Since bridges were be-
yond the engineering and eco-
nomic capacity of the average
small operator, the Snake re-
mained unspanned throughout
most of its length until the
Twentieth Century. J. Matt
Taylor's Eagle Rock bridge of
1865 was an exception, made
possible by the extremely nar-
row stretch of river where he
built it.
During flood season, there
were frequent cases of ferries
breaking loose and drifting
downstream. This was incon-
venient, but usually not too
serious. In the spring of 1882,
f o r example the Owyhee
ferry, later known as Walters
Ferry, drifted away. A few
weeks later the ferry at Em-
mett also broke loose and
floated two miles down the
Payette. With the river in
flood, there was no way the
�� v e r s p o k e a t l "