To The Mauston Star

Marietta, Ohio, March 29, 1894

Find enclosed check for five dollars on account of my subscription. The occasion moves me to remark that for thirty-five years I have been a constant reader of the Star. Through its columns I keep apace on life's journey with many friends of my youthful days. We who remain from the days before the war are on the downward slope, and as old people now look back upon that unique period.

I have a very lively recollection of first experiences in Mauston. I came there in 1859 from college. We opened a store which it was my duty to attend. But a large camp of Winnebago Indians on the Lemonweir attracted my youthful curiosity and I went to visit it. The Indians seemed to be remarkably friendly, although I could not understand a word of their talk. Next day the whole troop, about thirty or forty "bucks" and "squaws," came marching up single file to our store. Not to be outdone in hospitality, I invited them in. They crowded closely around me, keeping up their seemingly friendly, but to me incomprehensible jabber. Suddenly came a flash at the door as Capt. Joseph Langworthy rushed in with a stout stick in hand. He shook his club, jabbered Indian talk, and finally succeeded in pushing and shooing the whole crowd out. Then turning to me he said: "Young man, those squaws have got half your stock under their blankets. Always do business with Indians on the door step."

The county seat war in Juneau County raged with great fury in those days. John A. Kellogg and I were once sent to Germantown to work in the interest of Mauston. But we were out generaled in a remarkable manner by the Lisbonites. A queer looking foreigner began to boast of his skill in fencing. Now I had practiced enough in college to have conceit but not enough skill. The fellow said that Kellogg and I both together could not hit him. He was right. We each took a stout cane while he took a hoe handle. After about fifteen minutes of furious combat, we retired, having been pounded black and blue, while we had been unable to touch our opponent. The laugh was so completely on us that our influence on the county seat question was impaired. The man was Charles DeVilliers, an expert fencer and later Colonel of the 11th Ohio in the war.

A bear came through the village that winter and a lot of us mounted our horses to pursue it. Some one said we must have a distinguished bear dog which I believe belonged to Clark Gray. The dog was hastily procured, but as soon as he smelled the bear track he put his tail between his legs and ran home. He had no desire for any more experience with bears. I was one of those who followed the dog, those who followed the bear got swamped in a marsh.

Very truly,

R. R. Dawes.

Mauston Star, April 5, 1894, p. 7.

Transcribed by Lawrence W. Onsager

January 31, 2002