Chapter Three
Two Legends Are Born
Mr. Charles Williams was coming back to Independence to operate a hog farm and raise trotting horses. During the summer, he had interest in trotting horses, trotting his horse in races at county fairs throughout northeast Iowa. He had been using his old buckskin horse, Rush, finishing last in every race he had participated in at the Buchanan County Fair. He was not a wealthy man, but a man of great vision. He was never afraid to venture into markets because he had confidence in himself.
The Driving Park Association of Independence started organized racing in Independence in 1873. The Independence races had earned respect from some of the Iowa racing horsemen. One of the most successful and respected horseman, Mr. H. L. Stout of the Highland Stock Farms in Dubuque, instructed one of his men, Henry Kelley, to sell several of his horses to anyone wanting to purchase them. Mr. Stout considered these horses as surplus in the operation of his breeding farm.
Charles W. Williams, looked over the horses offered wanting to provide his business with horses that could benefit his deliveries of butter and eggs in rural areas. He was looking for good breeding stock and immediate use. He studied the condition of the horses and also inquired, to the annoyance of Mr. Kelley, into their blood lines.
Eventually they came to an agreement on the purchase of three horses. With good bloodlines for Breeding, he purchased a mare named Lou for $125.00 and her sister Mabel for $150.00. He also purchased an older gelding to use for deliveries.
As Mr. Williams negotiated selling one of the horses he had just purchased to a local man, a friend and colleague, John Hussey politely interrupted, “Charles.”
The local man nodded, “We can deal later, Charles.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Williams excused himself, “Find something?”
“Well,” Mr. Hussey said with little confidence. “It could be something.”
The two walked across the yard to the seller, Mr. Kelley. “There’s a mare, Gussie Wilkes.”
“Wilkes?” Mr. Williams asked hoping the horse is related to a long successful line of horses bearing the name of Wilkes.
“Yes,” Mr. Hussey confirmed, “all the way back to Hambletonian.”
“Really?” Mr. Williams asked, “The great Hambletonian.”
“Yes, but,” Mr. Hussey had to include her true condition, “she has a disability.”
“Disability?”
“You’ll see.”
Hambletonian, was considered the grand-daddy of great trotting horses in North America. Mr. Kelley had offered to sell Gussie Wilkes for $50.00 earlier to a potential buyer, but was turned down. When Mr. Williams asked how much for the horse, Mr. Kelley replied “Seventy-five dollars.”
Gussie Wilkes was young, but was weak and permanently lame. Mr. Williams briefly looked her over and said without hesitation, “I’ll take her.”
He later negotiated to sell Mabel to the local man for $200.00. Then the two men loaded the horses on a train headed for Ossian, Iowa.
Gilbert expected the sheriff to take him away to an orphanage or something worse. He avoided being seen as much as possible, spending a lot of time at the wishing tree. He would often pass by the Groober’s, hoping to see Clara, but the house was always quiet.
For several days Gilbert stayed in the house and continued to care for the horses in the stable. One day the sheriff locked the house up, by the order of a judge in judgment against Albert Fenny.
That night there was a thunderstorm and Gilbert snuck behind some bushes under the bedroom window. He bent a nail back so the window sash could be raised. He crawled in head first and flopped onto the floor, like a wet fish. He walked around the house quietly. He huddled under a worn blanket on his bed shivering as his clothes dried. The lightening lit up the room and the thunder shook the house all night.
There was excitement around town, because Mr. Williams was returning to Independence with his horses. He had made arrangements to rent the Buchanan County Fairgrounds from Colonel Jed Lake to breed and train his horses. Gilbert wanted to be at the station when Mr. Williams arrived. He made his way to the railroad station pushing through the small crowd gathered to greet Mr. Williams and his horses.
There were nearly fifty people gathered at the Burlington Cedar Rapids Northern Railroad Station in Independence. Even though Mr. Williams had very little success with horse racing in the past, the people realized he was capable to accomplish anything, when he put his mind to it. His new stock farm would bring jobs and commerce to the area.
The train whistle blew as it approached the station from the north. The train pulled into the station steam hissing from the engine as it slowed. There was a squeak as the brakes caught the iron rails and clanking from the cars coming together as the train stopped. There was a last blast of steam from the engine. A side door of a stock car rolled opened. There was a murmur from the crowd as several men laid out large wooden planks from the car to the railroad dock.
Finally, the horses appeared in the doorway as Mr. Hussey led Lou out of the car. Lou’s hooves emanating a hollow clunking on the thick boards as she descended down it. Mr. Hussey was a tall, lanky soft spoken young man. He was not schooled, but was intelligent just the same. He was dressed roughly in work clothes compared to the men in the crowd, who were generally well dressed businessmen. He was a good friend of Mr. Williams, cared for Mr. Williams’s horses and did other jobs as well. The crowd cheered gaily as Lou proceeded out of the car. Lou was a smart looking mare, young and vibrant.
They watched as the well-dressed Mr. Williams led Gussie Wilkes out of the car, but there was no cheer for her. She came out of the car showing a limp. She looked better than she had a few weeks earlier, but she was still weak and tired looking. The crowd was silent in apparent disappointment at her condition. Gilbert was astonished by the crowd’s reaction. Gussie Wilkes was obviously still a great horse for breeding, but needed a lot of attention to get her health back. Mr. Williams was aware of the crowd’s disappointment, but showed no emotion or concern for their reaction.
Gilbert noticed a bee hovering around Gussie Wilkes’ hind quarter. She swished her tail, and the bee landed on her hind quarter. Suddenly, without warning, she bolted, and Mr. Williams tried to calm her. The crowd scattered with screams and yells. Gilbert moved quickly forward and brushed the bee away from her. As Gussie continued to buck lightly, Gilbert rubbed the stung area and spoke to her. He checked to see if the stinger was still in the horses flesh.
“It was a bee, Mr. Williams,” Gilbert said without looking at him.
“Thank you,” he replied looking over the young boy closely. He knew he had seen him before, but could not place where he had met him. Mr. Williams was good at recalling people, but since Gilbert grew over the years he had trouble placing him.
Gilbert moved up to Gussie Wilkes head, gently patting her. “This really is a fine animal, sir. The legs are well formed and powerful. She may be lean in the belly, but her legs still have firm tone.” He glanced down at her injured leg rubbing his hands over the entire leg. “I would say her injured leg can be strengthened, but never heal completely. She wouldn’t be able to race. You must have plans for breeding her.” He looked into the horse’s eyes, “She still has the spirit for life in her. She hasn’t lost that.”
“I do intend to breed her,” Mr. Williams replied, while studying Gilbert.
“If you get her a good stud, you may have something,” Gilbert added.
A man in the crowd shouted, “Yeah, you’ll have another horse!” The crowd laughed including Mr. Williams and Gilbert.
It was interesting because both Mr. Williams and Gilbert said simultaneously, “It will be a great horse!” The two of them looked at each other and smiled. Mr. Williams was once again impressed by this boy he now recognized, as Gilbert Fenny. He was not aware of the situation Gilbert was in.
Gilbert thought abou
t asking Mr. Williams for a job, but just couldn’t do it. He thought Mr Williams wouldn’t hire a young boy for anything.
Mr. Williams had leased the fairground stables to keep his horses. He had purchased a house, a few blocks west of the large Wapsipinicon Mill on the river, but kept his horses at the fairgrounds. He and his wife had moved their belongings to town earlier in the week.
The Buchanan County Fairground was located a quarter mile west of the town. At the fairgrounds was a half mile oval track where regular races were held each year for the trotting racing circuit. The races held at the fairgrounds were not considered great races because they only drew horses from the local areas. The purses paid at the fairground events were small. The track was considered to be one of the best quality tracks in the state of Iowa. It was also considered a slow track because it was only a half mile oval. All racing heats for trotting horses were a full mile and the added turns to negotiate to circle a track twice made it a slow track when compared to full mile tracks.
There were horse races every Fourth of July at the fairgrounds for the local people to race. Then later in August there was racing open to nationally-owned horses, but since the purses were small, normally only horses from northeast Iowa competed.
It didn’t surprise Gilbert to hear people in town making jokes about Mr. Williams’ adventurous purchase of Gussie Wilkes. Gilbert watched from a distance as Gussie Wilkes and Lou were led away to their stables. As he turned to go care for his horses, he came face to face with the sheriff.
“Gilbert, you will have to get your personal belongings, and I’ll take you to a home for a few days until the court decides what to do with you.” Gilbert was expecting this and calmly went into the small house and grabbed a few clothes he had. The sheriff stayed out in front of the house. Gilbert didn’t want to leave Independence, so he slipped out the back window and ran for it. The only place he wanted to go to was the wishing tree to make a wish and pray to God for forgiveness and mercy.
He sat in the tree for a few hours thinking about his unsettling future. He could only think of how the whole world was crashing down around him. He had no mother; his father would likely kill him if they ever met again. His only friend was leaving for another city the following day, and he certainly would not be allowed to even say goodbye. He had no place to work, and he is trespassing in his home. His stomach then gave a deafening growl to irritate him even more. He may have to start stealing food. He couldn’t think of what miracle might save him. He prayed to God once again for guidance.
He still had hopes of seeing Clara, but she had not been allowed out of the house since the incident. If he didn’t see her one more time, he would regret it the rest of his life. As he snuck around town scavenging, he over heard talk that the Groober’s were leaving town on the morning train to Dubuque. His best chance to see her, would be at the train station.
Charles Williams and Mr. Hussey, settled the horses down after a brief walk. Mr. Williams led Gussie into her stall, he fed, watered and brushed her down. “Gussie will need to be nurtured for a while before we have her studded,” Mr. Williams said, “Hopefully this next spring.”
“I sure hope you know what you’re getting us into, Charles.” John shook his head.
“I believe it is as important to get a good dam for breeding, as it is to get a good stud.” He did not pay much attention to the young Mr. Hussey scepticism. The relationship between the two men had always been one of mutual respect. John was as honest and trustworthy as Charles was. He was dedicated to help Mr. Williams achieve his dream of raising a grand trotting horse. He could talk openly and honestly with Mr. Williams, even though it was Mr. Williams who paid his wages.
John carried a bucket of fresh water into the stall for Gussie. “You could be right. This mare isn’t in very good shape. I mean let’s face it, Charles, Henry saw a sucker in you and you certainly were a sucker.” John shook his head, “You knew he tried to sell Gussie for fifty dollars, and you still agreed to pay him seventy-five dollars for her. You didn’t even try to haggle him down.” John, being such a trusted friend, felt comfortable telling him just how he saw things.
“I took him, John,” Mr. Williams said confidently. “I would have given him one hundred dollars for her.”
“Charles, she can hardly walk.”
“It’s not the shape she is in now,” he reasoned, “it’s the blood line that will make the difference. Her family is full of great trotters. Besides, wasn’t it you who suggested her to me?”
“Yeah,” he responded weakly regretting the suggestion.
“That boy in town could see it plain as day.”
John chuckled, “He’s a stable boy, maybe ten or eleven- years-old. What could he know about such things?”
“I’ve heard and witnessed good things about his relations with horses.”
“I will admit, he pretty much ran his fathers stable,” John agreed, “but to judge a horse with just a look.”
“Can’t you get a feel for a horse with one brief examination?”
“Well, of course, but I have been doing it for years.”
“He sees the same thing I saw in her, and I doubt he even knows of her background, like we do.”
“Well maybe,” John brushed his comment aside.
“It doesn’t really matter what he thinks, we are here in this situation now.”
“I feel sad for the boy. They probably will be sending him off to an orphanage or boarding home somewhere.”
Mr. Williams raised his head, “Why?”
John was surprised by the interest, “His father was arrested for beating a twelve-year-old girl in town. It was Francis Groober’s daughter, Clara, I believe is her name. I don’t know which story to believe. They say the boy was being whipped by his father, and this girl tried to stop it by hitting Fenny over the head with a shovel.” Then he sadly shook his head slightly, “foolish girl.”
Charles waited for him to continue the story, but didn’t. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Sure if you want to hear it.” Mr Williams nodded affirmative. “Apparently, Mr. Fenny claims the boy and girl were carrying on, and he caught them. He then proceeded to whip the boy. When he turned his back to him, the boy hit him on the head with a shovel.”
“I think it was noble of her,” Mr. Williams said dismissing any idea that the latter story was the truth, “to help her friend like that.”
“That’s the way the authorities apparently saw it, too,” John agreed.
Mr. Williams and John finished up with the horses, and Mr. Williams went home to his wife, Nellie.
When Charles arrived at home, he could smell the aroma of a succulent plate full of roasted beef. The smell was over powering when he entered the house. Nellie, was a rough looking woman on the outside, however she truly was a calm loving person. She was dressed in work clothes, covered with a flowery apron. Her hair tied up in a chignon, with one clump of lazy hair hanging down over her face. It was obvious she had been slaving over the stove all day. She was carrying plates to place on the table.
“Here, let me do that.” Charles said. He reached for the plates. She relinquished them to him. He placed them quickly on the table. As she turned to go back into the kitchen, he grabbed her and pulled her back to face him. He put his arms around her and gave her a welcoming loving hug. They kissed briefly, then she swiftly returned to the kitchen once again. When Charles finished setting the table, he lit three candles.
Nellie had spent most of the day making bread and apple butter. Once she had finished placing the last of the food on the table, she joined her husband for a nice meal. As she served herself some potatoes, she asked, “what are your thoughts?” He hungrily shoved food into his mouth like a farm hand.
She spoke with a concerning tone, “What has your mind whirling?”
Charles stopped his chewing, pointed his fork at her la
zily, “You know me too well, my dear.” He sighed, “There is a young man in town that knows horses very well. I want to get him to care for the horses.”
“If you want him, give him an offer.”
“Well, it is not that simple,” Charles said. “It’s possible he will be taken away to an institution. His mother is gone and his father is in jail for a while.”
“How old is he?”
“I’m guessing, maybe eleven or twelve.”
“Oh my, he is just a child.”
“A child in age, but a mature person and great with horses.”
“So, what are you thinking?”
“Trying to figure out a good case for adoption or guardianship.”
“Adopting,” Nellie nearly spit out her mouthful of potatoes. “Adoption,” she swallowed what she had in her mouth, “you were going to talk to me before you went ahead with that?”
“Well of course I was, that’s why we are conversing about it,” Charles responded. “I was still trying to figure out all the options before presenting them to you. You made me talk about it before I had it all figured out.”
“I see, so let me help you.”
They discussed the situation and decided to try to get a judge to allow them to take responsibility for the welfare of Gilbert.
The next morning Gilbert emerged from his house through the window behind a bush. He enjoyed the sunny August morning walk to the train station in hopes to see Clara. He had no money, so he detoured his trek to the station by an apple tree, where he picked off a nice apple.
He wanted to say goodbye to Clara, but knew he would not be permitted to get close to her. He found a bench to stand on at the Illinois Central Station. From there he could see anyone boarding the train. He knew if he could see her, she would give him a sign or a look telling him how she was.
Around nine- forty a faint train whistle could be heard in the west. Soon the sound of the trudging engine could be heard as the train approached. Gilbert looked around at the variety of people gathered at the station. He noticed Mr. Williams was there. He was talking to the station master.
Allerton and Axtell Page 7