Thursday, February 29, 2024

Idaho Territory Fends Off One Last Partition Attempt [otd 02/29]

On February 29, 1888, Congressional Delegate Fred T. Dubois sent the following telegram to Milton Kelly: “House committee on territories to-day reported unanimously against any division of Idaho. This ends the fight.”

Judge Kelly. Illust-State photo.
Milton Kelly was the operator-editor of the Idaho Statesman, published in Boise. He was born near Syracuse, New York, in 1818. He became a lawyer in 1845 and practiced for many years in Wisconsin. Kelly moved to Placerville, Idaho in 1863. He then represented Boise County in the first Idaho Territorial legislature.

In April 1865, President Lincoln appointed him an Associate Justice for the Territorial Supreme Court. Six years later, he moved to Boise City and bought the Statesman.

Kelly actually showed remarkable restraint when he inserted the telegram text in the next day’s issue. His brief editorial about it did advise the partition supporters to “help build up Idaho instead of trying to tear it to pieces.”

As noted in several of my blog articles, many residents of North Idaho did not want to be part of Idaho Territory. That became especially true in Lewiston after the south “stole” the capital away to Boise City in 1864. The northerners hoped to become part of Washington, or perhaps a totally new territory.

The partition notion also had another root. The Republican-dominated U. S. Congress made Nevada a state in October 1864, even though its population fell well below the preferred minimum for statehood. (As a state, the region offered a Representative and two Senators who were “safely” Republican.)

To “bulk itself up,” in 1866 and 1868 the new state added major chunks of Utah and Arizona territories. Anti-Mormonism bolstered the Utah acquisition. And clearly the mining camps in the wedge that became southern Nevada benefited from being part of a state rather than a weak Arizona Territory.

Emboldened, starting around 1869 Nevada officials tried to carve a chunk out of southern Idaho. Thus, in January of 1870, Nevada Senator William Stewart introduce a bill to add all of Idaho south of the Snake River to his state. News moved slowly in those days. (Boise had to wait five years before it had a telegraph link to the outside.) Even so, nine days after the bill was introduced, protesters held a mass meeting in Idaho City to denounce it.

The bill hung around the halls of Congress for some time, but apparently died in committee, finally. Attempts to give the Panhandle to Washington, in 1874 and 1882, also failed. Backers of these ploys were simply no match for the political savvy of the Idaho leaders and their allies in Congress. Although the partitionists seemed to be close to their goal at times, the Territory remained intact.
Delegate Fred Dubois.
Library of Congress.


The Nevada annexation scheme surfaced yet again in 1886. By that time, miners had exhausted the best silver lodes in Nevada, and the state’s population was plummeting. (It lost almost a quarter of its people between 1880 and 1890). Adding the growing population of southern Idaho could offset the decline.

Led by Idaho’s shrewd and politically astute Delegate, Fred T. Dubois [blog, May 29], the Territory and its allies fought back in Washington, D. C. Internally, they made concessions to North Idaho – guaranteeing a university there [blog, Oct 3], and so on. This eroded northern support for partition. Shortly after Dubois sent his triumphant telegram, Idaho began to prepare for statehood.
                                                                                 
References: [B&W], [Illust-State]
“Constitutional Convention and Ratification,” Reference Series No. 476, Idaho State Historical Society.
“Good News from Washington,” Idaho Statesman, Boise (March 1, 1888).

Thursday, November 24, 2022

Fire at State Mental Hospital in Blackfoot, Joe Glidden Patents Barbed Wire [otd 11/24]

Early on November 24, 1889, a fire destroyed the state-run mental hospital located in Blackfoot, Idaho. The sanitarium, as it was then called, housed 47 male and 20 female patients at the time. Early accounts said 7 patients (5 men and 2 women) were missing afterwards, with two bodies found in the ruins. However, Hawley’s later History suggests that no one was killed in the fire.

South Idaho Sanitarium, now Idaho State Hospital South.
J. H. Hawley photo.
Located a half mile or so north of Blackfoot, the asylum had been authorized in 1885 and opened for patients the following year. Before then, mentally ill individuals had been housed in Oregon, under contract with that state. Officials transferred thirty-six patients (26 man and 10 women) when the Blackfoot facility opened.

After the fire, male patients were kept temporarily at the Bingham county courthouse and females at the local Methodist Episcopal Church. The institution was rebuilt at a location a few miles further north.

In 1905, the legislature funded a second state hospital; it was built in Orofino. As views on mental health issues became more sophisticated, the terms “sanitarium” and “asylum” were dropped in favor of a simple “Idaho State Hospital South” and “ … North.”

Today, Idaho is still wrestling with the proper approach, or approaches to treating people with mental health problems. Clearly, sufferers who are a danger to themselves and to others require different methods and facilities from those with lesser problems. Unfortunately, there are no easy answers.

Official drawing for Patent No. 157,124.
On November 24, 1874, the Federal government granted a patent to Joseph F. Glidden for an improved form of barbed wire. Over the years, many ideas had been tried but Glidden’s was the first effective design that could be manufactured at reasonable cost.

Homesteaders benefited first from the new product: It provided a way to protect fields from range cattle and sheep. In many jurisdictions, courts would not award damages for losses to stock unless the owner had tried to provide some sort of protection for his (or her) crops. An 1873 Idaho law said, in part, that farm fields “shall be enclosed with a good and lawful fence, sufficient to secure the crops therein from the encroachments of all kinds of domestic animals.”

Possible awards then hinged on the phrase “good and lawful fence.” A split rail fence met the criteria, but the materials were costly and difficult to obtain. In many areas, even wooden posts for stringing a wire fence had to be hauled from miles away. Still, posts and wire were far more affordable than anything available before.

Stockmen also quickly saw the advantages of fencing large expanses of range to keep it for themselves, and they had the capital to buy wire by the train car load. Thus, production of the new form jumped 60-fold a year after the patent was granted. Barbed wire fences brought their own problems, of course. The lore of the Old West is replete with stories of the fence cutters and gun-handy cowboys hired to patrol the wires.
                                                                                                                                      
References: [Brit], [Hawley], [Illust-State]
Joseph M. McFadden, “Monopoly in Barbed Wire: The Formation of the American Steel and Wire Company,” Business History Review, Vol. LII. No. 4 (Winter, 1978).
J. Orin Oliphant, On the Cattle Ranges of the Oregon Country, University of Washington Press, Seattle (1968).

Thursday, November 17, 2022

Jailbreak and Recapture in Murray [otd 11/17]

On November 17, 1890, the jailer for the Murray, Idaho jail, a man named Ives, brought a carrier loaded with evening meals into the jailhouse. The load was no doubt somewhat awkward since he had rations for all six inmates. Prisoner Nicholas Tully – being held for assault with intent to kill, but considered a “trustee” – offered his help.

Murray, Idaho ca. 1907.
Central Washington University Archives.
When Ives entered the cell block, Tully and another prisoner jumped him. After a brief struggle, they overpowered Ives, then bound and gagged him. In moments, all six prisoners were free. However, it was still light, so they decided to wait for the cover of darkness.

Established in 1884, Murray (Murrayville, initially) was one of the most important Coeur d’Alene mining towns. A special election in June 1885 made it the county seat … and therefore the site of the county jail. The exact construction date is unclear, but a suitable structure was in place by 1888 at the latest.

The prisoners had already taken the jailer’s watch, money, and keys … and locked him in a cell. Now they searched the office, but could find only two revolvers. When darkness fell, they crept out of town. All the escapees were fairly hard cases: Besides attempted killer Tully, they included two who were in for grand larceny, two for highway robbery, and one for murder.

As soon as he thought it was safe, Ives managed to chew through his rope gag. After awhile, a passerby heard his calls and came in to help. The sheriff was away and no one had any spare keys, so the rescuers had to file through some of the cage bars to set him free.

A county commissioner hastily organized a small posse. The pursuers headed out at first light. Two men crossed over a local pass to Delta, about four miles west and slightly south of Murray. There, they found some trace of the escapees: The report does not say what signs they found, but in those days many men were skilled trackers.

They followed the signs south along Beaver Creek for four or five miles, and discovered the fugitives skulking through the fields. They knew the narrowing canyon would soon force the escapees back onto the road, so they hurried ahead. There, the pursuers encountered the Wallace stage driver and another man, and they agreed to help.

The two original posse men hid along the road while their new allies rushed back toward where the first two had seen the runaways. When the six fugitives straggled out of the brush, the pursuers confronted them. In a well-timed move, the stage driver and his helper sprang out behind the six with shotguns. Outgunned, the escapees surrendered without a fight.

Reference: [Hawley], [Illust-North]

Thursday, September 22, 2022

Opening Day for the Academy of Idaho (Now Idaho State University) Classes [otd 9/22]

On Monday September 22, 1902, the Academy of Idaho – precursor to today’s Idaho State University – celebrated its first opening exercise. Ironically, the people of Pocatello wanted the Academy so badly, it almost didn’t get off the ground.
Pocatello, ca 1895. Bannock County Historical Society.

Pocatello was incorporated in 1889. As a major railroad junction, it grew explosively, topping 4,000 citizens by the 1900 census. After hard lobbying by locals, the governor signed a bill, in March 1901, that authorized the creation of the Academy [blog, Mar 11]. The institution would provide college prep and “industrial” (vo-tech) courses. However, the Act allocated no money to buy land for the school; that was up to the people of Pocatello. The bill set a deadline of May 1st for a site decision.

The subsequent dispute almost killed the Academy before it started. The city split mainly over whether the school should be east or west of the railroad tracks and yards. However, even within those factions, splinter groups formed to push specific sites. The wrangling continued for over six weeks. By April 30, the day before the legal deadline, they had reached an impasse. The Pocatello Tribune reported, “The Board then took a recess and a lot of people went out on the streets and swore.”

Finally, “under the gun,” they settled on what is now the lower part of the ISU campus. Forty students showed up for those first classes in 1902. By the end of the decade, school enrollment would reach nearly 300. In 1906, the Academy’s first Principal, John W. Faris, wrote, “The Academy has demonstrated beyond the question of a doubt that it fills a most important place in the educational system of Idaho.”
Academy, ca. 1914. H. T. French.

School administrators moved aggressively, adding three city blocks to the campus in 1910 and expanding the school’s offerings: night classes for adult education, winter short courses, and summer sessions. Even that early, they had aspirations to attain full four-year status. The only immediate result of their lobbying was a name change – to “Idaho Technical Institute” (ITI) – in 1915.

Recovering from a severe downturn during World War I, the school’s enrollment topped a thousand by 1920. Locals continued to push for four-year status. Finally fed up, the 1927 legislature took drastic action: They made ITI a subordinate division of the University. For the next twenty years, the Pocatello school would be the “Southern Branch of the University of Idaho.”

World War II crushed enrollment again, but afterwards about a thousand veterans attending under the G.I. Bill increased the student body to over 1,800 students. Thus, in 1947, the school became Idaho State College, an independent, four-year institution. Curriculum expansion became a major priority, and the school attained University status in 1963.

Since then the school has grown steadily. That included the addition of a major “College of Health-Related Professions” and a nearby Research and Business Park. The Park began with a large Technology Center that provided space for business start-ups and science-related spin-offs. It now contains a half-dozen substantial facilities, private and public.
                                                                                                                                     
References: [Hawley]
Merrill D. Beal, History of Idaho State College, Idaho State College (1952).
Diane Olson, Idaho State University: A Centennial Chronicle, Idaho State University (2000).

Wednesday, September 7, 2022

Lewiston State Normal School President George Knepper [otd 9/7]

President Knepper. J. H. Hawley photo.
Lewiston State Normal School President George E. Knepper was born September 7, 1849 in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, 40-60 miles southeast of Pittsburgh. Later the family moved to Illinois.

George did well with a “common” education, finding a job as a teacher while also doing farm work. Later, he taught part-time and served as a school administrator to help finance an A.B. degree and then a Master’s. (He would earn a Ph.D. from a Kansas university in 1904.)

Meanwhile, in Idaho, businessman James Reid coaxed a bill through the legislature to create the Lewiston State Normal School. Backers hoped to alleviate a severe teacher shortage in the state. In 1893, Reid was selected as president of the institution’s Board of Trustees. He knew Knepper through membership in the Masonic Lodge and recruited him as the school’s first President.

Then contractor problems delayed construction of a facility on the bluff overlooking Lewiston. Knepper scrambled to lease space in town, and classes began in January 1896 [blog, Jan 6]. Besides his administrative duties, Knepper taught pedagogy, math, and commercial law. The promised main building was finally dedicated during the summer.

Still, Knepper worried most about money to keep the school going. The 1897 legislative appropriation was so stingy, he removed the school’s only telephone and pared salaries and ancillary costs to the bone. The next session, two years later, added only $1,000 to the allocation. Although enrollment, and income from student fees, had increased, the school remained desperately short of funds.

Knepper turned to the local community. Lewiston residents responded with a needed piano and contributions to buy books for the beginnings of a library. At-cost donations of labor and materials also helped fund badly needed dormitories in 1897.

Knepper also appealed to the student body, urging and sometimes requiring their participation in programs to enhance the school’s sense of community. They responded to his enthusiasm, giving recitations, entertaining with musical shows, playing sports, and more.

Despite its financial problems, the Normal School grew rapidly. On a visit to Boise, Knepper spoke enthusiastically to the Idaho Statesman about their gains. The paper reported (September 29, 1901) that, “This year they have a new department of chemistry, with a very complete laboratory and a special equipment of the most modern and efficient make.”

Then, in 1902, James Reid – Knepper’s good friend and sponsor – died. Within a year, the Board asked (demanded, really) that Knepper resign. No one ever discovered a credible reason for his dismissal.
Lewiston Normal in 1915. Lewis-Clark State College.

Ironically, all his lobbying had finally persuaded the legislature to substantially increase the school’s funding, which he was not there to enjoy. Despite many ups and downs, the college grew, changing its name to Lewis-Clark State College in 1971.

Knepper found employment as president or dean at a succession of small colleges in the midwest until about 1911. That year, he returned to Kendrick, Idaho (18-20 miles east of Moscow), where his son Ralph ran a newspaper. After teaching in the area for several years, he moved to Boise to serve as Secretary for the Masonic Lodge of Idaho.

He passed away, aged 90, in Salmon, where he had gone to live with Ralph.
                                                                                                                                     
References: [Hawley]
Keith C. Petersen, Educating in the American West: One Hundred Years at Lewis-Clark State College, 1893-1993, © Lewis-Clark State College, Confluence Press, Lewiston, Idaho  (1993).

Friday, September 24, 2021

 Today's On This Day items gives me a chance to plug my book: Before the Spud: Indians, Buckaroos, and Sheepherders in Pioneer Idaho.

Con Shea was a major player in that history, along with many, many other pioneer stock raisers. Have a look at: Before The Spud.


Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Cornerstone Laid for Ambitious, Expensive, and Historic County Courthouse [otd 08/11]

On August 11, 1883, officials for Alturas County laid the cornerstone for a new county courthouse. The projected cost of the highly ambitious structure, which was to include both the court facilities as well as a jail, was authorized at $40 thousand (about $6 million using today’s labor costs).
Alturas County – Medium blue shows original. Dark Blue line: border in 1883.
The very first session of the Idaho Territorial Legislature defined, or re-defined, seven counties for the area “west of the Rocky Mountains.” One of those seven, created on February 4, 1864, was Alturas County. The original Alturas County contained nearly half the area of southern Idaho. It spanned about two-thirds of the east-west distance, and encompassed an area from the Snake River north to the Salmon River watershed. The original county seat was set as Esmeralda, a mining camp that soon disappeared. After April 1864, Rocky Bar served as the county seat. For fifteen years or so, mining in the Boise River watershed dominated the County’s economy.

Not much happened in eastern Alturus because of ongoing Indian unrest. However, after the Bannock War of 1878 [blog, June 8], stock raising grew on the Camas Prairie, and prospectors found rich lead-silver lodes in the Wood River Valley [blog, April 26]. The towns of Bellevue, Ketchum, and Hailey sprang up in 1880-1881.

The silver boom drew most of Alturas County’s population eastward. Thus, in the summer of 1882, after a bitter battle among the three towns, Hailey became the county seat. Prosperity seemed even more assured as Oregon Short Line railroad tracks marched across Idaho, and officials said Hailey would have a branch line connection before the next summer.

So, in February 1883, the legislature approved an Act that allowed Alturas County to issue $40 thousand in bonds to fund a new courthouse-jail. After the cornerstone ceremony in August, construction proceeded into the following year. The structure was completed, and accepted from the builder on August 1, 1884.

The Salt Lake City Tribune published (August 7, 1884) a long account from their correspondent in Hailey. The writer said, “The courthouse deserves more than mere mention. It is a very large, substantial and well arranged structure, located on the bench overlooking Hailey and the valley. The basement is of cut stone, and in it is located the jail, constructed of sheet steel and angle iron, riveted like boiler work.”

Citizen were proud that the project had “for once in the west” stayed within budget. The writer went on, “The finishing touches are now being put on the structure, which will be ample for some years to come.”

But, as usual, the boom times did not last. Within four years, silver production had dropped off drastically. Then silver prices fell in 1892, following by the financial Panic of 1893. The county took years to pay off the bonded indebtedness. Still, they were finally able to add to the structure in 1907.
Alturas/Blaine County Courthouse, ca 1919. [Hawley]

The complex history of how Alturas County disappeared as a political entity is far beyond the scope of this article. Suffice to say that eight completely new counties were created from Alturas, and it contributed healthy chunks to six others. Hailey survived as the county seat of Blaine County, created in 1895, but the county contains only about one-ninth the area of the original.

The Blaine County Courthouse was placed on the National Register of Historical Places in 1978. Although parts of the old building must sometimes be cordoned off for repairs or upgrades, it is still in use by county officials and employees.
                                                                                 
References: [French], [Hawley], [Illust-State]
“Alturas County,” Reference Series No. 112, Idaho State Historical Society (1966).
George A. McLeod, History of Alturas and Blaine Counties Idaho, The Hailey Times, Publisher, Hailey, Idaho (1930).