If you’ve heard of the Platte Mound, you may have heard of it’s “haunted house”
As you approach the Platte Mound from the south, you see a row of houses and on the far right, a farm. The old Nodolf house is hidden by the trees in the gap just to the left of the farm.
Numerous folktales start with the words “it was a dark and stormy night.” However, not all of them have influenced a community as much as “The Nodolf Incident.” This unique piece of lore has fascinated Platteville residents for over a century. Locals still remember the legend of “the strange night,” where the “dark and stormy” weather resulted in the mysterious disappearance of Minnie and Louie Nodolf. This article will introduce the Nodolf family and their unforgettable run-in with the supernatural.
The Nodolf Family Legend
The old Nodolf house as viewed from the road.
In the 1800s, an industrious German settler named Carl Nodolf (also known as Charles or Karl) set up his homestead near the Platte Mound. The Mound is a natural rock formation that is now marked with the world’s largest “M.” Carl bought a sturdy stone cottage surrounded by lush fields, taking the first step to creating a farm he could call his own. According to folklore, he then went back to get his fiancé in Hanover, Germany. Carl was eager to take his sweetheart to America and build a life with her in the frontier town of Platteville.
However, his dream was not to be. When he got to Hanover, he discovered that his fiancé and most of her family had died in a diphtheria outbreak a few weeks before his arrival. Only her sister, Louise Steinhoff, and her mother had survived. Heartbroken, Carl almost gave up on his Platteville home before deciding to give the States another try. He and his fiancé’s remaining family members moved to the Mound and did their best to live a normal life. Not too soon after the trip, Carl noticed the deepening affection he had towards his departed fiancé’s sister. The similarity between the two siblings must have been striking. As Louise Steinhoff was only sixteen at the time, Carl waited two years to ask her hand in marriage.
Carl Nodolf did settle by the Platte Mound in 1866 (“Charles Nodolf”). About six months later, he went back to his hometown of Hanover, Germany. There Carl met with his in-laws, the Steinhoffs. The family was safe and sound; nobody had died from diphtheria. Carl helped Johanna Steinhoff move to the Platteville area with her children Louise and Heinrich (“Johanna Caroline Bertram”). Johanna’s other daughter, Caroline, had already moved to Wisconsin. Caroline had married Carl’s brother, Louis Rudolf Nodolf, in 1861 (“Caroline Steinhoff”). In 1875, twenty-eight-year-old Carl Nodolf married eighteen-year-old Louise Steinhoff, creating more branches in the Nodolf-Steinhoff family tree (Johanne Marie Louise Steinhoff”).
The Strange Night
Carl and Louise took extra caution when they prepared their home for the impending storm.
By 1880, Carl and Louise Nodolf were doing well in their Platteville home. They had two children: a four-year-old named Minnie and a two-year-old named Louie. All was peaceful until “the strange night” in June when a massive storm rolled over their property. Oddly enough, the dark clouds seemed to hover over their home while the rest of the sky was blue and serene (Gard and Sorden). The soft rain turned into never-ending sheets at dusk, and the wind picked up into fierce gales.
Louise Nodolf heard wolves howling nearby. Public domain photo.
They fastened each shutter tightly and slid bolts across every door. After making sure that the house was completely secure, they tucked Minnie and Louie into bed. The chaotic lightning and howling of wolves kept Carl and Louise awake long after their children had dozed off. Louise had never heard the wolves so close to her home before. At around midnight, Carl and Louise decided that they would at least try to get some sleep. Louise led the way up the stairs with her lantern as she and her husband checked on the children. After seeing that Minnie and Louie were sound asleep, they finally went to bed.
Louise woke up in the midst of a thunderstorm to find her children missing. Public domain photo.
Several hours later, Louise woke to a crash of thunder. She thought she could hear her daughter crying out for help. She grabbed her lantern and ran to the children’s bedroom. Louise looked at their beds and saw they were empty. Carl was also awake by this point, and the two of them ran downstairs to see if their children had wandered in the night. Not finding them anywhere in the house, Louise and Carl called out, “Minnie!” “Louie!” in panic. All they heard was the rain beating down on the roof. Then, through the tumult of the storm, they noticed Minnie and Louie answering them from outside the house.
Carl unbolted the main door and found the children standing on the steps shivering. He ushered them into the house while Louise rushed to get them a warm change of clothes. Before she made it very far, Carl told her not to bother. Miraculously, Minnie and Louie had not gotten wet while they were in the middle of the storm. This detail was strange, considering the house did not have much of a porch, and there was no shelter for miles around that could have kept them dry. In the words of Haunted Heartland authors Beth Scott and Michael Norman, “it was as if they had been standing in some invisible shell on the doorstep of the house” (451). Carl and Louise were thrilled that their children were safe, but baffled by the bizarre event. They wondered not only how Minnie and Louie stayed dry in the rain, but also how they got out of the house in the first place.
Carl rechecked the house and saw that all the locks and bolts were untouched. Everything was still sealed from the inside. It would have been challenging for young Minnie and Louie to reach the bolts and slide the heavy bars to the side. Even if Minnie and Louie had managed to leave the house, who locked everything behind them? When Carl and Louise asked Minnie what had happened, she said that she did not know. The more she tried to talk, the worse she stuttered.
Minnie had never stuttered before that night, but both she and Louie would keep stuttering for the rest of their lives. According to Scott and Norman, they were the “only two of the eight Nodolf children to do so” (451). According to legend, Minnie and Louie never remembered what occurred on the “strange night.”
Minnie and Charles survived the strange event and grew to adulthood. Here they are pictured with the rest of the Carl and Louise Nodolf family, as shared by descendant on Ancestry.com
What happened that night?
What happened to Minnie and Louie defies all logic. But that fact has not stopped people from trying to explain the unexplained. The Nodolfs themselves tried in vain to come up with a reason for what happened on that “strange night.” Carl thought maybe some nomads (he used the term “gypsies”) had tried to carry off the children, before being scared off by the storm. This theory does not make any sense, and there were no camps or caravans anywhere near the Platte Mound at the time. Neighbors speculated that perhaps one of the parents had been sleepwalking and accidentally locked the children out of the house. This explanation is also strange because Carl and Louise kept waking up during the loud storm. Recently, independent researchers have rekindled interest in the case. Some of their wilder theories regarding Minnie and Louie’s disappearance include teleportation, alien abductions, and paranormal activity.
Did Minnie and Louis have an extraterrestrial encounter?
Michael Winkle and other proponents of the teleportation theory cite David Paulides’ Missing 411 series. These books focus on accounts where young people unexpectedly vanish and reappear in the Midwest area. The children in these cases, like Minnie and Louie, seldom remember how they got from one area to another. UFO enthusiast Joseph Trainor notes that Minnie and Louie may have experienced something that they could not comprehend, like an alien craft. Not too long after the incident, in 1894, local newspapers reported a strange ball of fire dashing through the sky in the Chicago area. The celestial anomaly was accompanied by “a terrific peal of thunder and vivid lightning” (“Fall of a Ball of Fire”). Some theorize that odd meteor-type objects like this one were actually spaceships. The trauma of seeing or being abducted by aliens could have led Minnie and Louie to their lifelong stuttering.
Some locals believe that Carl Nodolf’s long-dead fiance (of legend) was responsible for Minnie and Louie’s disappearance that night.
Finally, many Platteville residents think that the Nodolf house is haunted. Some people who believe Louise’s sister died from diphtheria point to her as the ghost (“Platteville, Wisconsin Ghost Sightings”). After all, she might have wanted to come to Platteville with the rest of her family. She could have unlocked and locked the door without anyone knowing. As stated before, Louise did not have any siblings who died of diphtheria, but it makes for a compelling story. A few of the people who have visited the old Nodolf home insist there is a ghost because of the eerie wailing sounds they have heard at the site (“Platteville, Wisconsin Ghost Sightings”).
Legacy
Only a few sources describe the Nodolf incident, with the primary account coming from Erva Loomis Merow (Gard and Sorden). She was a successful children’s book author from Kenosha, and there is a chance she “embellished” the tale when she relayed it in the 1960s (“Erva Merow”). Although the Nodolf Incident story is less well known today than it was in previous decades, the legend lives on. In 2015, Wisconsin composer Heidi Joosten wrote a collaborative choral piece about the incident. The work was performed by sixth through twelfth-grade choir students at Platteville High School (“Platteville schools The Strange Night”).
This painting of the Nodolf House adorns the Platteville Senior Center
The Nodolf home still stands today and is a great site to visit by the “M.” Although the walls are intact, the house is crumbling and structurally unsound (Burns). An outside glance is fine, but it is not safe to venture inside. Those who are brave enough to visit the property cannot help but wonder what really happened to Minnie and Louie on that “strange night” so long ago.
The Nodolf house still stands, but it is no longer safe to enter it.
[You’ll enjoy this article more if you read the first article, containing parts I-V, first! Parts I-V include: (I) the Berry Inn Ball; (II) the Berry Inn Brawl; (III) Caffee in Hiding; (IV) Trying Times; and (V) Conversations with Caffee. That article discussed the murder of Sam Southwick by William Caffee after a dance at the old Berry Inn, pleas for Caffee’s release, and his escape, re-imprisonment and trial. Caffee was sentenced to hang. The second half of this series tells what seems the end of Caffee’s story… but for Mineral Point’s Walker House, it was just the beginning!]
Despite the “Walker House 1836” signage, the famous old building could not possibly have been built in 1836, and it almost certainly did not exist in 1842, when Caffee killed Southwick. Why, then, have many people reported that the ghost of the hanged man, and others, haunt the premises?
Part Six: Execution Myths
None of the original accounts of Caffee and Southwick mention an inn or any other landmarks at the hanging location. The Walker House was not yet built, despite its supposed establishment in 1836. Jack Holzhueter of the Wisconsin State Historical Society states that the building’s lot “wasn’t even purchased from the government until 1845” (Lewis and Terry, 80; Peterson). Additionally, founder William Walker did not move from Ireland to the United States until 1847 (“Relatively Haunted”). Berry’s Tavern, where Caffee actually shot Southwick, is much older. It is therefore safe to say that Caffee did not hang next to Wisconsin’s oldest inn.
Caffee hung from wooden gallows, not from a tree, and his was not the last execution in the state. Public domain photo.
Caffee also did not hang from a tree, as some versions of the story claim. Instead, a scaffold was placed on part of the “low ground below town, surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills which were literally covered by the eager multitude” (“Caffee’s Execution”). According to an 1893 issue of the Iowa County Democrat, the execution took place “where the Mineral Point depot now stands” (“Death of Warren Johnson”).
The hanging took place on the site of what’s now the old Mineral Point train Depot, about 100 yards from the Walker House. Photo by Terry Burns.
This description provides the exact location of the hanging. The Mineral Point Depot, constructed in 1856, still stands today across from the Walker House (“Mineral Point Railroad Museum”). Caffee’s hanging was also not the last execution in Wisconsin. John McCaffrey’s hanging takes that spot, and thousands of people flocked to Kenosha to watch the murderer die in 1851 (Historic Madison Inc.). McCaffrey had drowned his wife, Bridgett, in a well (Historic Madison, Inc.; “Wife-slayer hung”). In 1853, the death penalty was abolished in Wisconsin (Gajewski).
Part Seven: The Fateful Day
On November 1st, 1842, thousands of curious Wisconsinites flocked to the Mineral Point hanging site. It was a pleasant fall day, and the spectators occupied themselves with picnic lunches and conversation before the grand attraction arrived. The crowd of 4,000-5,000 was diverse, with people of “every age, sex, color, and condition…fully represented” (“Execution of Caffee”).
Wood print from The Story of Mineral Point 1827-1841, “Compiled by the Writers’ Program of the Work Projects Administration” during the Great Depression, courtesy of Friends of Berry Tavern. Notice how Caffee is carried to the gallows seated on his own coffin.
At two o’clock, a macabre parade assembled in front of the local jail (“Execution of Caffee”). At the front was Major Gray’s dragoons wielding pistols and sabers. Second was a band of uniformed men with muskets under the charge of Captain Shaw. Next was a series of horse-drawn wagons, one of which contained Caffee’s coffin (“Execution of Caffee”). Deputies brought him out in a long white robe and a cap, with a rope already tied around his neck. Caffee may have specially requested the robe, as white garments symbolized “entry into heaven” at the time (Miller).
Instead of taking a seat in the front of a wagon, Caffee sat astride his own casket. The rest of Shaw’s command followed Caffee’ wagon. Finishing off the assembly was Colonel Sublett’s company of dragoons (“Execution of Caffee”). There must have been some musicians in the group as well because a funeral dirge accompanied the strange procession. Caffee enjoyed the music, keeping beat to the melody by striking his coffin lid. Many accounts say he used two empty beer bottles, though he probably just used his fists (Lewis and Terry, 80-81; Godfrey, 39). In either case, Caffee made himself memorable.
The procession supposedly traveled down High Street and Commerce Street to the outskirts of town. A posse of seven Black Hawk War veterans kept the crowd thirty feet away from the hanging site. They wore handmade uniforms made from blankets and bed ticking (Carted). Warren Johnson led the group with a sword that he had never gotten to use in the war (“Death of Warren Johnson”; Carted). When Caffee arrived, sheriff George Messersmith helped him up the stairs to the gallows. Reverend Wilcox, who frequently visited Caffee in prison, also climbed the stairs and prayed for Caffee’s redemption in God’s eyes (“Execution of Caffee”).
Caffee showed no emotion during the whole ordeal. In prison, he had bragged about being able to “stare death out of countenance.” (“Execution of Caffee, Breihan et al.). His nonchalant attitude at the hanging seemed to prove this point. During speeches and prayers, Caffee leaned casually on one of the scaffold posts until it was time for the grim ceremony to end (“Execution of Caffee”). The sheriff asked Caffee if he had any last requests. Always the jokester, Caffee replied that he wanted the rope adjusted “with a good long slack” (“Execution of Caffee”).
Earlier that day, he had allegedly asked for a slice of Judge Jackson’s heart as his final meal (Gajewski; Godfrey, 39). The sheriff did the honors of pulling the cap over Caffee’s face, pulling the lever on the scaffold, and ending his existence (“Execution of Caffee”). Legend has it that Caffee’s friends tried to restore him to life, but he remained dead (Crawford 112; “Execution of Caffee”). Or did he?
Part Eight: The Haunting of the Walker House
The Walker House may well be one of America’s most haunted inns. William Caffee’s spirit is said to roam the halls, appearing in various forms to guests and employees alike. According to Becky Busher, a former Walker House employee, he “lives” on the third floor (Peterson). Some people also claim to see the apparition of a little girl who plays on the upper floors with a ghost cat and ghost dog (“Relatively Haunted”). It is unclear why they inhabit the building. Mysterious footsteps, voices from nowhere, and flying objects make the Walker House spirits seem almost cliché. But unlike most ghosts, William Caffee and his friends do not mean to hurt anyone. If anything, they may be trying to help with the building. They seem to like taking part in renovation plans, as they show up the most while the property is being refurbished.
The ghost began to appear when new owners started to restore the property. This is how Walker House looked in the 1960s.
Reports of the building’s strange activity began in 1964 when Ted Landon purchased the run-down property with dreams of restoring it to its original glory. The place had been abandoned since 1957, and fixing it brought unprecedented challenges (Godfrey 39; Norman and Scott, 452 – 453 Haunted Heartland). Aside from the substantial financial investment, Landon had to deal with spooky visitors while he organized repairs. He heard unknown footsteps and creepy breathing sounds that seemed to follow him wherever he worked. In 1978, Landon had enough and sold the building to Dr. David Ruf. One of Ruf’s first guests, a college student from Madison, left due to hearing the doorknobs constantly rattle while he was trying to sleep (Norman and Scott, 453 Haunted Heartland).
Part Nine: Calvert’s New Friends
Eager for some help, Dr. Ruf hired Walker Calvert (a descendent of the original owner, William Walker) to be his property manager and chef. Calvert started noticing paranormal events right away. Most afternoons, a wooden panel covering the water pipes would slide to one side on its own, before falling to the ground (Norman and Scott, 453-454 Haunted Heartland). It looked almost like some invisible person was inspecting the plumbing. But floating objects were commonplace compared to what Calvert would come to experience at the Walker House. In the late 1970s, Calvert had at least three chats with Caffee’s ghost. Employees would hear two men talking in the dining room, but when they came in, only Walker was there (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). Walker could not remember who he had been talking to or what they discussed. He spoke with the person in a semi-hypnotic state, never realizing that his conversation partner was not “real.”
Before his afternoon discussions with Calvert, Caffee helped the employees make breakfast. Early in the morning, before anyone had started cooking, Caffee was already getting the pots and pans together (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). He also liked to move the breadbox (Peterson). The clanging noises could be heard outside as kitchenware flew across the room. Workers in the kitchen felt like they were being watched, judged even. One cook refused to work in the kitchen alone (Peterson). Some employees had a difficult time getting into the building, as the door would lock on its own. Caffee usually locked up early at night, much to the dismay of Calvert and everyone working the late shift (Norman and Scott, 456 Haunted Heartland). It seemed that Caffee wanted to control who went in and out. Caffee’s ghost did not appreciate crowds very much, which is understandable considering the ruckus when he died (Balousek, 45). However, he was fond of certain people and would let them in. One morning, when Calvert and his wife Linda were opening up, Caffee was there to greet them with a disembodied “Hello!” (Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland).
Caffee’s ghost seemed to like places in Walker House where alcohol was being served. Photo courtesy of HauntedHouses.com.
Ever the partier, Caffee made sure to keep tabs on the alcohol. A bartender on the second floor was taking stock of the glassware when he heard heavy breathing and footsteps. After asking the ghost to leave him alone, he heard the noise slowly fade away (Norman and Scott, 455 Haunted Heartland). When they waitresses served drinks, they often bumped into something invisible but substantial (Peterson). Out of the corner of their eye, some of them saw “a white shape” (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). Occasionally, a beer bottle would fall to the floor without anyone disturbing it. If the legend that Caffee swung beer bottles on his coffin is true, he may have been confirming his identity (Norman and Scott, 458 Haunted Heartland).
The ghost of a little girl also sometimes appeared… (public domain photo… sorry, this is not the actual ghost!)
Calvert commented in an interview with Beth Scott and Michael Norman that “The ghost was always doing something. It was as if he tried to prove to everyone in the Walker House that he was there” (455 Haunted Heartland). One of the ghosts, either the little girl or Caffee, loves to tug on people’s ears and hair. The little girl was more likely responsible for scaring Calvert in the root cellar. On a summer day in 1981, Calvert heard someone running up and down the cellar’s wooden steps “over and over again, like a child at play” (Norman and Scott, 456 Haunted Heartland). The cellar was well lit with electric light, but Calvert could not see anything that could have made the sound. The walls were made of thick rock, blocking out any noises from outside. The ghosts seemed to be visiting Calvert, and this was just the beginning of his encounters.
One day, Calvert was working in the office when he heard footsteps approaching. They stopped at his door. When Calvert got up to open the door and investigate, he did not see anyone. Everything was normal until he heard a low groan, which intensified into a horrendous growl (Norman and Scott, 455 Haunted Heartland). This noise may have been the ghost dog, or Caffee playing a prank. Either way, Calvert would never forget the experience.
Walker Calvert saw the ghost of Caffee sitting on this porch in 1981. Notice that at that time the “Walker House 1836” sign was on the other end of the building from where it hands today.
Calvert finally saw what appeared to be Caffee’s spirit in 1981. It was a cool October evening, and the atmosphere was perfect for a ghost sighting. Calvert was checking the door that opened from the second-floor barroom onto the porch. As he walked outside, Calvert was shocked to find a headless figure sitting on the bench. He looked old and wore a gray mining jacket with denim pants. There was a black, felt hat where his head should have been. Calvert was not concerned with the ghost’s sudden appearance. He had spent so much time interacting with Caffee that he felt he knew the ghost well. Calvert recalled what he saw that day in a matter-of-fact way:
Caffee often appeared with no head! (Public domain photo.)
He was just a rumpled, funny-looking old man. His clothes were pretty nice, but they were old, dusty, and wrinkled. He was sitting on the bench facing me. I knew right away it was Caffee. But I didn’t reach out to touch him. I didn’t want to get that close. (Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland)
(Walker Calvert as quoted by Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland)
When Calvert glanced away, the man disappeared. He assumed the apparition was Caffee because ghosts of hanging victims frequently appear without their heads. The figure was also wearing a mining jacket, which makes sense given Caffee’s occupation as a miner in White Oak Springs. The only thing that does not make sense is the age of the ghost. Caffee died at 29, so why was the ghost so old?
In Haunted Heartland, Beth Scott and Michael Norman point out that spirits “can come back at the age [they] feel” (458). Maybe Caffee felt like an old man after spending all those years wandering the Walker House. Oddly enough, a waitress saw the ghost of a young man a few days later. He had a head and only appeared for a couple of seconds before fading away. Perhaps Caffee wanted to flirt with the waitress by showing her what he looked like when he was alive.
One employee accidentally gave Caffee’s ghost a ride back to her house. Debra Enerson said that she was leaving the Walker House when she noticed the carpooler: “I got in the car and I felt someone was there. I could hear someone breathing. I don’t mind the guy. He didn’t bother me” (Peterson). Debra also points out that Caffee’s ghost likes to come out in the morning and at the “bewitching hour” of “5 or 6 pm” (Peterson). At those times, the pub suddenly becomes drafty: “The rest of the place can be warm, but it gets cool in there. People can feel his presence, feel him whoosh past them” (Peterson). In addition to Caffee’s presence and the little girl’s spirit, there may have been many more ghosts in the 1980s. According to The Wisconsin Road Guide to Haunted Locations, there was an exorcism in 1984 to cast out the “seven spirits that were said to haunt the place” (Lewis and Terry, 82). Apparently, the exorcism did not do much good, because the sightings were far from over.
Part Ten: Sightings in the 21st Century
The ghosts kept rather quiet in the 1990s and early 2000s. After Calvert and subsequent owners left, the property was abandoned once again. By 2002, the Walker House was on the “most endangered properties in Wisconsin” list (Brown, 209; “Relatively Haunted”). Joseph and Suzan Dickinson bought the building in 2008, taking on the herculean task of repairing years of vandalism and disrepair. In total, the Dickinsons replaced over two-hundred pounds of leaded glass during their restoration of the property. Oddly enough, all of that glass was broken from the inside (“Relatively Haunted”). The Dickinson’s think it was the work of vandals, but there could have been paranormal activity involved.
With their haunting grounds disturbed, the spirits were on high alert. They came to like the owners but were wary of any strangers. One day Joseph Dickinson was away from town and asked his daughter to check in on the Walker House. It was a frigid day, so she went over to make sure that none of the pipes were freezing. Suddenly she encountered an unknown man who told her, “get the hell out, you’re not the owner” (“Relatively Haunted”). Joseph Dickinson explained that the man was “very protective of the building” and sometimes acted like a supervisor when he was away (“Relatively Haunted”). The mysterious figure stood at the top of the stairs and watched as the food was being prepared.
Aside from the strange man, there were also some other unusual happenings. For example, Dickinson’s grandson experienced the floor “weaving” underneath his feet (“Relatively Haunted”). Visitors allegedly saw floating heads and moving chairs (Akamatsu, 167). The ghosts messed with technology by draining batteries, making the phone ring when no one was on the line, and playing voicemails “that had been deleted long ago” (“Relatively Haunted;” Godfrey, 40). Cameras supposedly acted up in the Walker House. When they did work, the photos they captured featured orbs and misty wisps (Godfrey, 39, Institute of Extreme Beauty).
By the 20th century, the once-beautiful Walker House became so run down it was on the states “Top 10” of Historic Properties needing restoration. One-time owner Joe Dickinson talks a little about the Walker House’s history in this 2010 “Ghost Hounds” video.
The Dickinsons welcomed paranormal investigators into the Walker House, hoping that some unique publicity would bring them the funds they needed to keep the building. In 2011, the Relatively Haunted team did a special on the Walker House, where they attempted to communicate with William Caffee’s spirit. The Dickinson’s created ghost-related newsletters and publications to help with the fundraising efforts (Brown, 210). Unfortunately, they were unable to keep up with costs in the great recession and had to give up the building.
In 2012, Dan and Kathy Vaillancourt took over and have been running the restaurant and inn ever since. The new owners vehemently deny the existence of any ghosts. They even have a website page “debunking” some of the supposed ghost activity . Unlike the Dickinsons, they avoid reaching out to ghost hunters and fans of the supernatural. To them, ghost stories are just a small part of the rich history surrounding the Walker House.
Whether the Walker House is haunted or not is ultimately up to the visitor to decide. The building is fascinating to explore with or without unexplained presences and things that go bump in the night. Whatever the case may be, William Caffee’s bold exploits will not be forgotten anytime soon. If they are, he might just come back to refresh our memories.
Parts I-V: the Berry Inn Ball, the Berry Inn Brawl, Caffee in Hiding, Trying Times, and Conversations with Caffee
by Nettie Potter
Historic Walker House in Mineral Point is the home of many local legends. Photo by Terry Burns
The Walker House is an imposing three-story structure located in Mineral Point, Wisconsin. Since its alleged establishment in 1836, the building has changed hands many times. Originally an inn and pub, the Walker House has also been an art gallery and meeting hall over the years. The old building is expensive to maintain, which could account for the frequent shifts in management. But there may be another reason why buyers leave so quickly. Some say a tavern spirit haunts the premises, eager to avenge his death.
Inside the Walker House Tavern. This photo accompanied a “Haunted Houses” article on the Walker House and William Caffee… unfortunately, it placed the Walker House in Menomonie! How much of the William Caffee – Walker House legend can we verify?
Legend has it that after a night of drinking and partying at the Walker House, William Caffee killed his rival, Samuel Southwick, in a dramatic duel (Brown, 209; Norman and Scott, 194 Haunted Wisconsin). He was then sentenced to hang next to the tavern. A few conflicting accounts say that after murdering Southwick in a nearby town, Caffee went to the Walker House to hide. Authorities found him, put him in shackles, and condemned him to hang near his old hideout (Godfrey, 39). Others say that Caffee was a notorious horse thief. When he stopped at the Walker House for a drink, a mob carried him off and lynched him (Akamatsu, 167; Steiger). Whatever the case may be, Caffee got a taste of “frontier justice” when he was hung outside the Walker House in 1842. His was the last hanging in Wisconsin, next to the state’s oldest inn (Balousek, 44; Jacobson). Since then, people say Caffee’s ghost has roamed the Walker House seeking revenge. To this day, workers at the inn see his apparition and flee in terror.
What really happened to William Caffee? Was he a horse thief, a gentleman, or a cold-blooded killer? Most importantly, is he still making his presence known? The true story of the Walker House ghost may differ from what the locals are used to, but it is just as compelling and strange. This ten-part series will explore the life, death, and afterlife of a Mineral Point icon.
Part One: The Berry Inn Ball
Bill Breihan and Cory Ritterbusch have located the original invitation to the Berry’s “Birth-Night Ball.” They’ve provided this and other documentation on the Friends of Berry Tavern Facebook page.
It all started at Berry Tavern, now called the Lamar House, on the night of February 22nd, 1842. Adeline Berry and her husband Fortunatus Berry were hosting a “Birth-Night Ball” to celebrate the 110th anniversary of George Washington’s birthday (Breihan et al.). They invited everyone they knew to their inn (and home) at Gratiot’s Grove, in what is now as Shullsburg. As part of the festivities, the guests would participate in an advanced form of square dancing known as the cotillion (Breihan et al.).
One of those to receive an invitation to the ball was William Caffee, a 29-year-old miner from White Oak Springs, Wisconsin. Bill was an aggressive and determined man, perhaps because he became an orphan at the age of eight and was left to care for his three younger brothers (Find a Grave). Although Bill could be crude and brash at times, he had a soft spot for dancing. Each dance gave miners a rare opportunity to socialize and woo the ladies. As such, Bill tried to behave himself at Berry’s gatherings.
Bill Caffee jumped at the chance to dance with the local ladies! (Public domain drawing courtesy of Square Dancing in the 1800s.)
But on the February 22nd party, he had too much to drink, and his short-temper got the better of him. He claimed he would like to kill, or at least punch, Charles Gratiot (“Trial”). Gratiot liked organization and insisted that callers bring only a set number of people to the dance floor at a time. Caffee hated this rule (and therefore Gratiot). He also assumed the dance caller, Amos Culver, left him out of the fun by avoiding his name. Caffee asked Amos to join him for a drink, hoping to get some answers. Culver explained that he had called Caffee’s name last dance, and did not usually call names twice in a row. Caffee demanded to see the list of names. After Culver gave him the list, Caffee ran off with it yelling, “If I can’t dance, then no one should!” (“Trial”).
Part Two: The Berry Inn Brawl
The Berry Inn today. The sign says “This stone marks the old Chicago Stage Road, and the tavern built by Fotunatus Berry in 1829.” Photo by Cory Ritterbusch, used with permission.
Caffee hid the list in his pocket, then went outside with his friend Charles Lamar for a chat. He warned the other partygoers not to follow him for the list, threatening, “I’ll cut the God-damned heart out of any man that gets in my way” (“Trial”). Sam Southwick ignored the warning and started advancing toward Caffee. Southwick was the cousin of Adeline Berry and a “peaceable man” according to most accounts. But, unfortunately for him, Southwick chose this day to strike up a fight. He picked up a piece of firewood and looked ready to swing.
Caffee told Southwick to stand back or be killed. He had never met the man before but knew instantly that he did not like him. Sam Southwick did not move very fast as he was a 54-year-old man with a limp. Caffee pulled out a pistol almost immediately and shot him near the heart. Lamar checked in on Southwick and asked how he was doing, to which Sam responded, “I am a dead man” (“Trial”).
Lamar turned on Caffee. “What have you done?” he asked. Bill simply said, “I told him to stand back” (“Trial”). By now, a crowd of people had gathered at the scene. Lamar tried to fight Caffee but stopped when he shouted, “Charley, don’t lay your hands on me,” and someone in the crowd said Caffee had a knife (“Trial”).
According to court testimonies, Samuel Southwick died at 1 am on February 23rd, 1842, a few minutes after the shot was fired. Caffee fled from the scene.
Samuel Southwick, Adeline’s Berry’s cousin, died at the Berry Tavern door. Public domain drawing.
Part Three: Caffee in Hiding
After the shooting, Caffee ran to his hometown of White Oak Springs, Wisconsin. When he arrived in the area, he met Charles Lamar, Samuel Scales, and Samuel Dunbar, who had all been at the ball when the shooting occurred (Breihan et al.). They tried in vain to get Caffee to turn himself in. Lamar has been a constable and told Caffee he had a solid argument for a self-defense case. Caffee was unconvinced and rode off on horseback with his brother Ben. He traveled past Iowa and eventually wound up in St. Louis (Breihan et al.).
During his travels, Caffee met one of a notorious band of horse thieves and counterfeiters. (This encounter started the rumor, mentioned earlier, that William Caffee also stole a horse.) When Caffee tried to turn in the gang member and collect his substantial reward, the criminal reportedly exposed him to the sheriff as the man who shot Sam Southwick (Breihan et al.). Both men ended up in jail.
On June 17th, 1842, Wisconsin territorial governor James Doty “appointed the politically connected Mississippi steamboat captain John Atchison territorial marshal” (Breihan et al.). He then sent Atchison on a mission to pick up Caffee in St. Louis. He promised Atchison a $113.75 payment for returning the prisoner. The next month, Atchison arrived in Mineral Point with Caffee but never received any money (Breihan et al.).
Part Four: Trying Times
Mortimer Jackson, later a member of Wisconsin’s first Supreme Court, was the prosecuting attorney
Caffee’s trial began on September 13th, 1842, in a small log courthouse in Mineral Point – the Iowa county seat at the time (Carted; “Iowa County Courthouses”). Judge Charles Dunn presided over the court. Attorney General Mortimer Melville Jackson served as the prosecutor, claiming that “All the circumstances of this case conspire to establish, clear as the sun at noon day, and as strong as holy writ, the proof of the prisoner’s guilt” (“Caffee’s Trial”).
Mineral Point attorney and legislator Moses Strong defended Caffee. Public domain photo.
Moses Strong served as the defense attorney, assisted by Platteville mine owner Lorenzo Bevans. John Blackstone, Fortunatus Berry, R.C. Buzan, Laban Cassidy, Amos Culver, William Dering, Beon Gratiot, Charles Gratiot, Edward Gratiot, J.R. Gratiot, Samuel Huddlestone, Charles Lamar, David Lufkin, and Joseph Scales were among the many who took the witness stand (Breihan et al.; Crawford, 113; “Caffee’s Trial;” “Trial“). Each of their testimonies matched up, with the exception of Joseph Scales. While the rest of the witnesses stated that Southwick did not hit Caffee, Scales thought he saw Caffee dodging Southwick’s blows (“Caffee’s Trial”).
On September 16th, the jury pronounced Caffee guilty. He showed no emotion during the verdict, remaining “cool and unconcerned” (“Caffee’s Trial”). Caffee’s counsel requested a second trial, so the court decided to reconvene on September 21st. On that day, the motion for a new trial began with affidavits claiming there had been some drinking going on in the jury room. This motion was overruled when the deponent, Thomas Gloster, admitted that he had bought the liquor in the first place (“Caffee’s Trial”). On September 24th, Caffee came to court in irons. He objected to the law clerk, “I don’t think I have had a fair trial, as the evidence against me was not true” (Breihan et al.; “Caffee’s Trial”).
The clerk lamented that someone as young and handsome as Caffee should be sentenced to death. He expressed his sincere hope that Caffee would repent, and that the execution would prevent similar incidents in the future. After insisting that the trial was indeed fair, he announced the sentence:
It is the Judgment of the Court, and the Sentence of the Law, that you, William Caffee, for the crime of Murder, of which you stand convicted, be taken hence to the jail of this county, and there safely and securely kept, until Tuesday, the First Day of November next, on which day, between the hours of 10 o’clock, A. M. and 4 o’clock, P. M. you shall be taken from said jail, and then and there publicly hanged by the neck, until you are dead. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul.
“Caffee’s Trial”
Soon after the verdict, Caffee’s friends allegedly made plans to break him out of the Mineral Point jail but did not follow through. Instead, they petitioned the governor to stop the hanging and issue a less severe punishment (Crawford, 112). Governor Doty thought that long term imprisonment was not enough for a murderer and did not commute the sentence. In a letter to the Iowa County sheriff, George Messersmith, he wrote:
There is little doubt that if Caffee had not lived in a society in which the practice of carrying about the person concealed weapon was not only tolerated, but considered rather as distinguishing the gentleman, than the ruffian or bully, he would not have been guilty of shedding Southwick’s blood. It is painful to see the effect of this barbarous custom visited upon one so young; but I do not learn that since his confinement he has exhibited any evidence of contrition, or that he is fully sensible that his situation which has awakened so strong a sympathy in the bosoms of his friends is occasioned by his violation of the laws of his country, or that he is yet aware that those laws are supreme and that no man has the right to take the life another for any private injury.
James Doty
Caffee did not have any desire to apologize for his actions. Instead, he was hell-bent on making life difficult for his captors. Each week, a blacksmith named James James arrived to re-rivet Caffee’s iron shackles. Whenever he removed the constraints, Caffee threatened, “You had better be careful how you put the irons [back] on, for if I should get loose, you might be sorry” (Carted; Crawford, 112). Caffee’s claims that he would get free were not taken lightly. Mineral Point authorities stationed four armed men to watch Caffee’s cell, just in case (Crawford, 112)
William Caffee was held in the Mineral Point jail, which has recently been excavated. Public domain photo.Close-up of the old Mineral Point jail. Public domain photo.
Part Five: Conversations with Caffee
Despite Caffee’s rough facade, he was quite light-hearted around visitors. He frequently joked about his upcoming doom in a way that he upset his friends and family. When his brothers came to visit him for the last time, he apologized for not taking his death more seriously (“Execution of Caffee”). On Halloween night, the day before he went off to the gallows, he wrote letters to his loved ones asking forgiveness. He shared his account of what went down at the Berry house and his sudden spiritual revelations. Two of the letters appeared in a local paper and are copied below.
The first letter is to his uncle, A.S. Daugherty:
Dear Uncle,
It was your request that I should leave a statement of those who swear false against me, which I declined at that time; but to satisfy your mind that false evidence convicted me, I will give you a full detail of the transaction. I went to the ball at Capt. Berry’s on Tuesday night, as I usually went to balls, with only the arms that Bryant stated. About 9 o’clock, I had some words with Gillet. I finally told him if he did not let me alone that I would cut him open; to which he asked me not to jump on him; I replied I would not, and so left him. Everything was peaceable until about 12 o’clock when they refused to call my name. I went to Culver and asked him to call my name, which he refused to do. I then asked him to let me have the list, and he gave it to me. I went down stairs, and said I was going home; I was followed into the bar room and collared, and the list demanded of me; I told them they should have it as soon as I looked at it. I do not know who it was collared me, but I pulled loose of them, and went out of the house. When I got to the door, I met Lamar, and stopped to talk with him. I pulled out my knife and said if they undertook to take it from me, I will cut some of them open; and put it up again; and while we were standing there, three or four came out with clubs, and Southwick struck me on the shoulders, and Lamar pushed me off the steps. I stepped back and told them not to strike me any more. Then Southwick turned a club at me, and said to “beat him to death” or something of that kind; but Southwick kept on striking at me, and me backing out, and asking him to desist, till I got to the ditch, and fell to my knees, and when I raised I shot. When I fired I said, “Now God Damn you, you have got it.” I then started home, and Scales came to me and told me to get into the State as quick as I could; and I went to the Springs, and there saw Lamar again; and he told me not to go, for I was defending myself, but I told him it would cost me a good deal, and so I made off. I made no other threats than I have mentioned; and all others that was swore to was false. You heard the evidence, and who gave it. I will not call any names; only Capt. Berry, as he swore to the most of any; though I freely forgive, and do sincerely hope, when they are called to stand before the tribunal of Almighty God, that all their sins may be forgiven, and that they may sit on his right in peace for ever. As my time in this world is running short, I will close by giving you my dying thanks for your support on my behalf. Give my love to Aunt Polly, Margaret, and all the family. These handcuffs are so in the way or I would write more. Tell brother Ben farewell. Farewell to all! (“Caffee’s Letters”).
The second letter is to his cousin, Miss Margaret M. Daugherty:
Dear Cousin,
When you was here you asked me to join you in prayer, which I thought trouble at that time. But thanks be to God for his merciful kindness to me in giving me grace to believe myself forgiven. He has shown me his only Son crucified for my sins as plain as I see to write to you. I can now ask you to hold out faithful, and send me in that world where all tears are wiped away. Tell brother Ben to address himself to our heavenly Father who alone can save in hour of trouble. I want you to write to all my brothers, and tell them I die happy, and that I hate to leave them but I do not hate to die, for I am going home, and hope to meet all there. Tell Levi [that] when he was here, [I] was in a passion, and did not talk rational, but the Lord has taken away that stubborn heart, and gave me a heart to know and feel his love. I could write forever, but my time has come. I must go home; so I must bid you farewell, but not forever, I hope. Farewell! (“Caffee’s Letters”).
Towards the end of his life, Caffee believed he was going to a better place. Convinced of his salvation, he looked forward to what awaited him on “the other side.” According to one account, Caffee “was not without hope of happiness” after his death (“Execution of Caffee”). Caffee knew he was “going home” after the hanging, but was “home” actually the Walker House?
Come back later this week for parts six through ten of “Tavern Spirits”!
[Editor: The above “Works Cited” page includes sources for both these five sections and the next installment of parts six through ten. Because of that, it comes with an unusual disclaimer. As Potter will show in the next five sections, a few of these sources–particularly those claiming Caffee stopped in at the Walker House–have not checked primary sources of the trial! That’s one reason for putting this story in print. In contrast, those sources closer in time to the actual event are true. The next five sections will look in more detail at the many ghost stories surrounding William Caffee and others at the Walker House.]
Hello, everyone! As the temperatures drop, it’s a good time to turn inward. Our next several posts will concern the history of the area. We’re delighted to introduce local writer and filmmaker Nettie Potter, who will be sharing several articles on topics she’s presented on locally… the murder in Coffee Woods, the spirits of Walker House, the the “Nodolf Incident” at the Platte Mound. We’ll be running one of Potter’s stories each week for the rest of January and all of February (along with whatever other articles may pop up on here!)
Just in case you’d like a teaser, here’s a video of what Nettie will be talking about in her article on “The Spirits of Walker House.”
That William Caffee, by the way, has no connection (beyond the phonological one, and that Nettie Potter is writing on them) to the William Coffee of the Coffee murder.
Do you have a story involving local history? Write about it and submit an article to us! We’d love to read your work.
with a side trip to Hyde Blacksmith Shop and the old stage stop
A favorite stop for local photographers is Hyde’s Mill, in Iowa County Wisconsin near Ridgeway. It must be the most photographed old mill in the state! But the drive through Hyde Valley will also take you by many other picturesque sites, including an old blacksmith shop, stage stop, and the one-time Hyde store, now a local watering hole for hunters, football fans, and wandering photographers.
Hyde’s Mill near Ridgeway is a favorite place for fall color pictures
We’ll start and finish with what most take as the highlight: the rare old wooden water wheel mill. First built by settler William Hyde in 1850, it burned down in 1870 and was rebuilt by “Ted” Sawle at its original site next to the 1850s stone dam. To get there, you’ll want to drive about five miles north of Ridgeway (or seven miles south of Arena) on County Highway H, or just google “Hyde’s Mill.” You’ll turn off Highway H on (not surprisingly) Mill Road.
Hyde’s Mill in August. Catching this site at different times of year is a favorite hobby for photographers!Hyde’s Mill in winter. I was experimenting with long-exposure photography that day!
The restored old mill house, built in 1870
The Sawle family owned the mill from 1931 until around 2012. According to a Wisconsin State Journalarticle, the site includes “the wooden mill house, its idle wheel, eight acres of land and a hydroelectric plant that generates up to $300 worth of electricity a month.” The current owners prefer to not be identified.
It appears that the Sawle family, making a virtue of necessity, developed quite a collection of old mill stones! They’re lined up to the left of Mill Creek on old Mill Road. We’ll leave it to you to interpret the Biblical verse that introduces them.
The main millstone headed by this quote from Deuteronomy: “No man shall take the nether or the upper millstone to pledge: for he taketh a man’s life to pledge”
The Sawle family wound up with quite a collection of mill stones over the years!
While you’re in the area, you might want to take a five-minute drive south on Highway H through Hyde Valley, which is itself a beautiful drive. You’ll go past a little tavern, which for generations served as the Hyde Valley general store. Rumor has it that it’s a great place to watch Packer games!
If you keep going south, you’ll get to the Hyde Blacksmith shop. This yellow-stone building contains quite a story. According to Jeanie Lewis in her 2012 DodgevilleChronicle article, the shop was originally located down the road at the Dick Keene farm, but taken apart brick by brick in 2000. For a few years, the stones were stored inside while the Hyde Blacksmith Shop Territory committee raised funds.
In 2008, a local stone mason, Art Kirsch, offered to rebuild the shop for a fraction of the estimated cost, something the Territory group considered a “godsend.” Rebuild it he did, at its current location on the Ruggle’s farm on County Highway H.
The restored Hyde Blacksmith shop, located on the Ruggle’s Farm in Hyde Valley about a mile south of Hyde Mill.
Hyde Blacksmith Shop usually hosts an open house and family days in June or July, though it was cancelled this year due to COVID-19. For next year’s information, you might want to check their Facebook page.
This sign near the restored Hyde’s Blacksmith Shop gives these dates: Ruggle’s Farm (1840); Stagecoach Stop (1844-1883); House (1843); Barn (1852)
The old stagecoach stop, along what is now County Highway Trunk H
The current Highway H runs along the old stage route, and the Ruggles’ farm includes one of the old stage stops. Before the trains came and went as a source of local transportation, the stagecoach was how early settlers made it from place to place. At that time, Hyde Valley was a thriving intersection and the main stage stop between what was then a much-larger Arena, Wisconsin and Wisconsin’s third oldest city, Mineral Point.
We’ll start this piece where we began, at the old Hyde Mill. Long-time owner Theodore “Ted” Sawle maintained it as a working mill for decades and became somewhat of a legend in the area. Along with making this water wheel, he crafted two others, one of which was the 18-foot-wheel still on display in Indiana, which he made for Daniel Boone’s brother, Squire Boone.
Ted Sawle also fought and won a heated 1970s battled with the DNR over water rights. The state does not want any mills or dams on navigable waterways… but the Hyde Mill and Dam had been in the valley years before the state made that decision. Sawle contested it and ultimately won. When he passed on in 2009, he was over 104 years old.
If you visit, please respect the many “no trespassing” signs in front. All of the photos taken here were taken from behind the fence, and its not hard to imagine that the old structure can’t really tolerate lots of people climbing around on it. Though Ted Sawle is gone, his warnings and desire to protect this beautiful old site still remain!
The stone dam was built two years after Wisconsin attained statehood
Ted Sawle’s old sign asking visitors to stay behind the fence!
Unless noted, all photos by Terry Burns
Tell us about your favorite place in the Driftless Region! We’re accepting submissions.
Dickeyville, Wisconsin’s Grotto on the summer solstice.
The Midwest is blessed with a fascinating legacy of religious structures created primarily by German immigrants. . . . the real architectural gems stemming from the immigrants may be the incredible religious grottoes of the Midwest, which are considered among the most important folk or “outsider” art environments in the United States.”
Yes, it feels strange to use the word “grotto” for structures basically built of stone mixed with concrete then embedded with sparkling glass, shells, and whatever else the builder could find, but let’s just go with it for a moment… and go to one of these grottoes. They are some of the most fascinating specimens of folk art in the area. A grotto (or cave) in this sense means the inside of a shrine, and they became popular about 100 years ago in the Midwest.
My favorite Driftless Region grotto is just off of US 151 in Dickeyville, Wisconsin, about ten miles from the bridge across the Mississippi River into Iowa. It sits on the grounds of the Holy Ghost Parish, right on the main drag in Dickeyville. Entrance to the Shrine of the Blessed Virgin is free, though donations are appreciated. As the Grotto approaches 100 years of age, it requires more than a little bit of upkeep.
Inside the Shrine of the Blessed Virgin at the Dickeyville Grotto
Typically most grottoes are built around a main shrine, usually to the Virgin Mary, and this one is no different. Inside the building you see at the top, you’ll find the 25 feet tall, 30 feet wide and 25 feet deep shrine… yes, it’s large, but it isn’t the size that draws most people’s attention. It is all the shiny items placed around the object of adoration.
Out from the base of the shrine, one may see several huge crystals, the largest of which is more than two feet tall!
Along with Mother Mary holding baby Jesus, you’ll find a collection of objects ranging from stalagmites that seem to be growing up from the floor at her feet, and coral, shells, rocks from around the country, and many other items. This is the handiwork of Father Matthias Wernerus, who was Pastor of the Parish from 1918 to 1931, and built the different shines from 1925-1930. Mother Mary’s shrine was finished in 1929.
Yes, that’s real petrified wood making up the Tree of Life on the back of the shrine.
Father Matthias apparently began collecting things, asked his congregation members to collect things, and before long, he even had Ford Motor Company in Detroit sending him building materials! (Henry Ford sent him those round balls that used to be on top of the Model T stick shifts. They appear most prominently in the Sacred Heart shrine behind the main church.) The church website notes that six or seven truckloads of thirty tons each came from the Dakotas, from Iowa, and from nearby Wisconsin quarries.
Behind the main shrine, you’ll find the stations of the cross, similarly decorated with shiny items ranging from rose quartz to colored glass
The brochures available at the entrance states that it is “a creation in stone, mortar, and bright colored objects” from all over the world, including “colored glass, gems, antique heirlooms of pottery or porcelain, stalagmites and stalactites, sea shells of all kinds, starfish, petrified sea urchins and fossils, and a variety of corals plus amber glass, agate, quartz, ores such as iron, copper and lead, fool’s gold, rock crystals, onyx, amethyst and coal.” Some items, like the large amount of petrified wood, stalagmites, stalagtites and the huge crystal quartz points set out in front of the Blessed Virgin’s feet, would not be obtainable today
If you are Catholic, you might want to learn more about the church and its parish or visit their gift shop. In this piece, I’m addressing the Grotto as an inspired work of folk art, but I do not presume to be an expert on Catholic shrines.
The author having some fun with one of the reflecting balls at the Grotto.
Try to go on a sunny day, and you can get some truly amazing pictures. Maybe Dickeyville can consider the Grotto’s little reflecting balls their version of Chicago’s Bean. Because of the orientation of the building, its much easier to catch the sun reflecting off the back of the main shrine than off the front. In fact, to get the front of the Grotto in the sun, you really have to be there just before high noon and ideally in the late spring or summer! I’ve been told that shrines are supposed to be constructed so that the sun never shines directly inside of them… which means it rarely shines on the front door, either. The very top picture, taken just before noon near the summer solstice, is the closest I’ve ever come to getting the front illuminated by the sun. On the other hand, it is easy to get beautiful sun-lit photos of the Tree of Life which adorns the back side of the main shrine.
The Sacred Heart Shrine, whose banded pillars include old shifter balls from Model T Fords
The grotto has several other works of art. To the left, you’ll see the Sacred Heart shrine, which reproduces an altar erected in Chicago at Soldiers’ Field during the 1926 International Eucharistic Congress. The rock for the four pillars came from New Mexico, and they’re banded in a combination of colored glass and shifter balls from old Model T Fords! (Don’t ask me why the sun can shine on this Corpus Christi altar and not on the Blessed Virgin… as I’ve said, I am no expert on this type of sacred art.)
As you can imagine, one of the most popular secular activities at this sacred site is trying to identify the different components used in the building! The garden and birdhouses in front of the gift shop are similarly decorated with bright, shiny, and often antique objects.
Construction started
Construction ended
Shells, stones…
Dyed crystal points
Faith, Hope, Charity…
the greatest of these is Love
As folk art, most of Dickyville’s Grotto is delightful. There are several other shrines, though I’ve pictured the main ones here. A final shrine, not to God but to patriotism, I personally avoid… not because I’m not patriotic, but because it seems devoted to an outdated sort of “patriotism” celebrating, among others, Christopher Columbus. I understand that this was the view of European Catholic immigrants 100 years ago and part of what Father Matthias celebrated, but since I do not, I’ve chosen to not represent that part of the Grotto in this article.
Instead, I’ll end with some other photos of things I’m happy to celebrate–among them, Wisconsin deer!–then end with a photo of the Grotto in winter.
The garden behind the main shrine The Grotto in winter
Tell us about your favorite place in the Driftless Region!
by Terry Burns, Laurie Graney and Kristal Prohaska
Welcome to our third and final article on the mystery of “Indian Park,” the not-quite-an-acre of land just off fourth street in Platteville, Wisconsin. Our first article introduced the many mysteries of this place; our second article discussed the history we know for certain, particularly its history as a cholera burial ground and the seeming legal tug-of-war that’s occurred over the property since the 1850s.
[Note : we have added new information to this article as of January 31, 2022. That new information has been obtained as research performed as part of a Wisconsin Humanities Mini-Grant entitled “Unraveling the Mysteries of Indian Park and Developing a Vision for the Future.” We have also added a more formal separate page, “The History of Indian Park,” which includes references beyond what we refer to in this article.]
Is that circle in the center an Indian Mound? It originally rose at least two feet higher off of the ground and the area under the circular sidewalk is also sloped. Some people who lived in Platteville in the late 1960s and early 1970s remember that it was once surrounded with an iron fence. In the 1950s and early 1960s, elementary students from O.E. Gray elementary school were often walked out to the park as a field trip, and told not to walk on the mound because it was sacred ground to the “Indians.” Were these elementary school teachers right?
Finally we come to the legend that gives the park its name: the alleged “Indian buried in the middle.” We’ve already speculated that if there is truth to the legend, and we think there is, that the so-called “Indian” (no one has ever attached a tribe or nation) is not a recent burial. Elementary school teachers in the 1950s used to lead their classes out to the park from O.E. Gray elementary and instruct students that there was a mound in the middle of the park, and it needed to be treated with respect. If you grew up in Platteville and remember such a field trip, we want to say that your teacher was probably exactly right: that there likely is a conical mound in the center of the park, and perhaps were other mounds there too at one time. This article will explore that possibility and talk about how we might prove it.
So, is that a conical mound in the center? Was this area home to a mound complex? Could there even be a linear mound on the south side, perhaps one shaved off when the park was leveled?
As we explored this idea, we were told more than once that the kind of area “Indian Park” sits upon was not the kind of area that mounds were built upon. (Of course, we were only told this by other white people, as the “Mound Builders” are long gone. William Quackenbush, the Tribal Preservation Officer for the Ho-Chunk Nation of Wisconsin, kindly informed us that this was sometimes but not always the case.1)
Conical mounds do NOT need to be located near water, but even if they did, that would not be a problem. The area now known as “Indian Park” was once very near not only water, but a plethora of natural springs. In fact the whole area of what is now Platteville has been described by of the early setters as a forested area filled with gorges and springs. The area to the east, towards Darlington, was prairie, and it was easy to see what is now Platteville because it stood out both because of the large Platte Mound (the one that now has a large “M”) and because it was forested and full of water.
The last post on this blog was a 1917 article by one of the early white settlers, Mr. J.E. Evans, entitled “Platteville Ninety Years Ago, as the Site Appeared to our Pioneers / Also Some Account of the Abundance of Water that Greeted Early Settlers.” As that article showed, the area looked vastly different then. It was a land full of ravines and springs. The area around Platteville was so plush, so full of resources and places for shelter, that its hard to believe it was not a meeting ground for Native American trade and ceremony.
Writers such as Wisconsin state archaeologist Robert Birmingham (in Indian Mounds of Wisconsin, co-authored with archaeologist Amy Rosebrough, and in Spirits of Earth: the Effigy Mound Landscape of Madison and the Four Lakes) and Anishinaabe professor Patty Loew (in Indian Nations of Wisconsin: Histories of Endurance and Renewal), along with on-the-ground educators like Effigy Mounds National Monument lead ranger David Barland-Liles, have discussed at length how the mounds connect to the cosmology of those who build them. For instance, bear effigy mounds are often associated with the bear clan; mounds occurring near springs are particularly significant since they were considered by some to be the opening to the underworld.
This graphic, used by Madison public schools to teach about the mounds in Dane County, shows the general distribution of “mounds and other earthworks” in Wisconsin.
In one of the earliest histories of the area, C.W. Butterfield’s 1881 History of Grant County, Wisconsin, Butterfield introduced the area with a long discussion of the “Mound Builders” (pp. 442-449) and conveniently listed off the locations of those he was aware of.
Since then, literally hundreds more mound sites have been rediscovered and in many cases, destroyed. Sometimes the locations drift into mystery for purly financial reasons: for instance, each of us have been told stories by retired civic leaders that either one or several conical mounds once sat upon Platteville’s Legion field, but were leveled off to build the current playing fields. Is this true? We suspect it is, as those individuals had no motive to lie about such a thing, and the reason why the act allegedly occurred– wanting playing fields more than wanting to preserve an archaeological site–does not seem surprising. But the only way to prove it would be with ground-penetrating radar or to locate such mounds on in a study done before the park was built.
That’s just one of scores of examples. After our first presentation on Indian Park back in February 2020, two long-time residents shared similar stories about other places. One, a former colleague of mine from UW-Platteville, [permission needed to use name], said that as a boy the area nearby that he helped farm had what he took to be a mound, and when he returned there later, it was gone. He was sure it had been scraped off by farming equipment. This sort of story has no doubt repeated itself over and over in this area.
Therefore, we find it extremely safe to argue that although there’s no record of when the mounds in “Indian Park” were partially scraped off, it is almost certain this happened, since the area was once described as looking so different. Also, we know for certain that two or more feet of fill have been added to the park. As you can see from the photo, when the new sidewalk was put in to the park several years ago, the excavation plainly showed the older sidewalk beneath, under at least a foot and a half of fill. Additionally, if one walks along the south border of the park, you’ll find that the adjoining properties sit more than a foot lower than the park; whatever fill was used for the foundations of those houses years ago still left them sitting lower than the park. Taken together, this means that the mound in the center used to stand out much more than it did. (Indeed, the park once called “Hill Cemetery” used to be hilly, near springs, and reputedly had more than one mound.)
As the new sidewalk was put in to the park several years ago, those watching could plainly see the old sidewalk under at least a foot and a half of fill. That means the mound in the center used to stand out much more than it did. Photo by Kristal Prohaska.
If there was a mound complex in the area, it’s not inconceivable–in fact, its predictable–that there would have been native gatherings here. In fact, that makes for a much more logical reason for people calling the place “Indian Park” than the story of an “Indian buried in the middle.” If someone or some people were buried there (if the mounds were burial mounds, as is often but not always the case), we’d be talking about someone buried there more than a thousand years ago, but peoples still visiting to the area to perform ceremony as late as the beginning of the last century.
Is that possible?
Yes. We will argue that it’s not only possible but likely. It matches the practice that continues (or in some cases has restarted) in places like Effigy Mounds National Monument. If we let ourselves be guided by those most familiar with the phenomena of mound-building– Ho-Chunk elders, Wisconsin state archaeologists who write about the “Mound Builders,” and others within the intersection of peoples who have studied and lived within native traditions–it starts to look more and more likely that there may have once been not just one mound but a mound complex in what is now called “Indian Park.” Discovering whether that is true requires archaeological excavation that is not permitted in catalogued state cemeteries, and as noted in our previous article “Indian Park cemetery” was catalogued as a state cemetery in 2021.
What we do know is that both articles and memoirs have referred to Native American gatherings at Indian Park. We also know that articles from the late 1800s and early 1900s
In 1962, someone recalled enough to tell the reporter that native people from “miles around congregated there once a year for a pow-wow. They always gathered under a big oak tree for their ceremonials and it is assumed they moved the grapes [graves?!] during one of these times, since they stopped returning rather abruptly.”
The park used to contain several “big oak trees”– they have simply blown down in recent years (the last one coming down during the big storm in the summer of 2020.) But as you can see from this picture taken during the 1970s, the park once boasted several oak trees.
From “Two Tours of Historic Platteville,” compiled by Betty Burgett in 1986 from two separate guides written by Eagle Scouts James Burgette (1976) and Dvid Burgett (1984), p. 6.
In addition, some residents at the turn of the last century recalled their being a multi-day Native American gathering in that park, though no one recalled, or perhaps knew at the time, the reason for the gathering.
Hopefully at some time in the future, ground penetrating radar will solve this mystery!
Notes
Often we have been asked if there are any Ho-Chunk or Potawatomi histories about the Mounds. Yes, the Ho-Chunk in particular consider themselves the living descendants of the “Mound Builders,” and have a plethora of histories concerning this. (Uniquely, the Ho-Chunk literally bought their way back in to the land of their ancestors by repurchasing some of their ancestral ground.) Because so much has been lost, it seems unlikely to tie a specific history to this one small patch of land. We did write to the Ho-Chunk Historic Preservation Officer, Mr. William Quackenbush, about the possibility of a mound complex in the park, and he said (on September 4, 2020) that this was not hte first time he had been asked. He also commented about whether or not a mound necessarily needed to be near water or on a bluff:
“You ask an interesting question in that there is no set distance from water or to water that determines burial placements. I believe in the field of archaeology there is this misconception that burial mounds for example, are placed in close proximity to water and that there are these set rules or guidelines that govern the placement of earthworks in general. This type of ideology originates within the field of archaeology for their use and it has now become generally accepted by their community to be the case. Traditionally speaking, burials are more apt to be placed where the individual and/or family preferred them to be placed, which doesn’t always include easy or short access to water. Ask a handful of archaeologists if earthen mounds were placed on sides of hills, or are there cultural resources such as burials on steep terrain, and they will have varying and differing viewpoints on the matter yet few if any conduct archaeological shovel tests across inclines or steep terrain. In short, their average standards & best practices dictate many thoughts on matters unless critically questioned. Bottom line is, there’s always an exception to the rules that need to be considered.”
Later in the letter, he mentioned other details that we have since asked him if we could publicly share. For now, we will just note that Burns’s inquiry was not the first one he’d received, but that “[w]e have heard others in your community through the years, have considered it as such – even going as far as including the recognition of the native community within the park’s name. Where these early thoughts originate would have to be researched to determine if they warrant consideration. I do know the Ho-Chunk People have been systematically displaced from most all of our ancestral lands since the mid 1800’s through various land cession treaties and ensuing series of forced removals to no less than four different reservation sites west of the Mississippi River. Many of those families associated with the Platteville area have likely succumbed to the genocide of our People that has taken place in our recent history.”
A land full of ravines and springs (more than 17 springs within what would become the city limits) was what greeted early settlers. The area around Platteville was so plush, so full of resources and places for shelter, that its hard to believe it was not a meeting ground for Native American trade and ceremony.
Below, you’ll find a copy of “Platteville Ninety Years Ago, as the Site Appeared to our Pioneers / Also Some Account of the Abundance of Water that Greeted Early Settlers” by J. H. Evans, from the January 31, 1917 Platteville Journal. Evans describes what the early settlers saw, based on his own 70 year history here and conversations with city founder J.H. Rountree and others. Since the article is a bit hard to read, I’ve also transcribed it.
Following this, you’ll find a Wisconsin State Journal article from 1962 that talks about the native gatherings that some recall being held in this area. That post is under construction now, but should be finished soon. If you’re interested in the possible mound complex that’s right here in Platteville, stay tuned.
Here’s the article:
< “Platteville Ninety Years Ago, as the Site Appeared to our Pioneers / Also Some Account of the Abundance of Water that Greeted Early Settlers” by J. H. Evans. From the January 31, 1917 Platteville Journal.
Platteville ninety years ago, as the site appeared to our pioneers
Also some account of the abundance of water that greeted our early settlers
By J.H. Evans
Transcribed from January 31, 1917 Platteville Journal
“This blessed year of 1917 marks the ninetieth anniversary of the white man’s advent on the present site of Platteville. Emanuel Metcalf’s accidental discovery of lead near the location of the City Water Works was unquestionably the primary cause of the founding of the city of Platteville. It was far from being the ideal site of the prosperous city tht now graces the location. If the traditional history of a combination of the “Badger” and the trapper Metcalf had made the discovery of mineral about half a mile further upstream, Platteville would have been located on much better ground.
“Just imagine the appearance of the 1920 acres that now comprise the corporate limits of Platteville which greeted the eyes of the pioneers who came here in 1827. The topographical features then were very different from that which meets the eye of the present dweller. At that time the site was covered with a dense forest of heavy timber, principally different kinds of oak, linn, and aspen, with a thick undergrowth of crab-apple, sumac, and briers. The site was traversed by a series of low abrupt ridges, generally running from North and North-west to the South and South-East. Many of these ridges had an altitude from four to six feet higher than at present, while the intervening ravines in nearly every instance had many springs of running water and often swamps where horses and cattle were occasionally mired. Probably there was no other place of like area better supplied with living spring water.
“To give an idea of the abundant supply of water, I will try to locate some of the principle springs which had something to do with fixing the homes of the early settlers. Most of these springs have disappeared through the effects of mining and the filling of smaller ravines.
“The Rountree spring came from a ledge of rock in the ravine which crossed Pine Street, and on the northwest corner of the lot now owned by Prof. McGregor. This spring did not have a strong flow of water, but it was important from the fact that it caused the location of Maj. Rountree’s log cabin, that being the first house built in Platteville. After the flow of water ceased, Rountree built on the site the first ice house in Platteville. Much filling has raised the grade several feet.
“The next most important spring was the ‘Vineyard Spring,’ located on the lot now owned by Rev. William Waters about eighty feet East of the present line of Water Street. This spring had a large flow of water. J.R. Vineyard built a commodious spring-house with a projecting portico over the spring on the north side. His dwelling of frame stood near the present site of the home of A. Kies. Further up this ravine were several springs, notably those of Samuel Pross and Frank Rowe. Below the Vineyard springs were other springs, those of Mrs. Nettie, Judge S.O. Paine and L.L. Goodell being best remembered. Crossing Main Street, a copious flow of water came out on a lot where the livery stable now stands. This was known as the Poersh spring, belonging to a man of that name who followed the vocation of “soap-maker.” Further south and on the west side of the ravine was a fine flow of water known as the “Hawley spring” now the property of Meyer lumber company. This spring is probably inexistence at this time.
“This ravine was a noted land-mark in early times, north of Main Street it was a boggy marsh covered with a scrubby growth of timber and brush. On the east side (of Carl’s addition), the principle raines of lead were located. At Main Street, there was a greater flow of water than at this time. This was crossed by a low wooden bridge at least fifteen feet below present grade. The apex of the ridge near the High School, and the ridge crossing Main Street between Oak and Second Streets being from four to eight feet higher than present grade made the crossing in the ravine so difficult that teams were often compelled to double in order to effect a passage.
“A spring much used in early times was located in a small ravine traversed by Prof. Williams. It served for a few years for the stables of Maj. Rountree, failing in a few years it was replaced by a well. Another spring remembered by early settlers came to the surface in the ravine which beads near the former home of W.H. Oettiker. It disappeared many years ago, long before the land was cleared by the heavy growth of timber.
“A notable spring of early times was located almost exactly under the southwest corner of the City Hall. It was on the north side of the ravine which headed near the north-west corner of the Public Square. This ravine was narrow and quite deep. So deep where it crossed Main Street between the Hendershot building and the Lumber and Fuel block, the original grade was at least ten feet below present grade. Here a small wooden bridge was built across the little stream.
“West of the city along the marshy ravine which headed near the present Fourth street there were many springs. First in order was the Hardnocks, then came the Doesher spring which afforded water for the cows in pastures as late as ten years ago. On the Grindell property, a spring for a time furnished water for the manufacture of brick. Further west on the H.S. Rountree lot there was a spring with a large flow furnishing abundant water for stock. Near this spring the village boys of 60 years ago (screened by abundant timber) had built a dam to impound water for a ‘swimming hole.’ For a few seasons this afforded the kids a fine bathing pool. Just on the south of Adams street, on a lot now owned by the E. H. Doescher estate, there was a spring notable in early times as a camping place of emigrants and gypsies. Further down the ravine there were springs on the Shepherd lot, the Oudyn lot, the Charles Nye lot, the Homer Perry lot, and the Carsten lot. Doubtless there were others. Some may yet continue to flow, but most of them have been drained by the shafts sunk for mining. Along the ridge running west from the Camp grounds, water seemed to be near the surface. Miners were troubled with water, but the intensive digging and clearing the timber finally drew off the water. The last spring on the Anthony Sherpherd lot disappeared a few years ago.
“Note: I have not attempted to name all the springs which furnished great abundance of water to our early settlers. My recollection goes back over seventy years. Some of the data here given has been gathered from our early pioneers; notably Major Rountree, J.R. Vineyard, Frederick Hollman, Samuel Moore and others. I thought a record of these matters concerning the topography of our city should be preserved.”
While researching “Indian Park,” we learned that some residents at the turn of the last century recalled their being *a* multi-day Native American gathering in that park, though no one recalled, or perhaps knew at the time, the reason for the gathering. We’ve speculated that it concerned the mound(s) that we think were more visible in the park when it was a hilly spring-fed area known as “Hill Cemetery” or “Hill Graveyard.” Kristal Prohaska located the article below in the Wisconsin State Journal. In 1962, someone recalled enough to tell the reporter that native people from “miles around congregated there once a year for a pow-wow. They always gathered under a big oak tree for their ceremonials and it is assumed they moved the grapes [graves?!] during one of these times, since they stopped returning rather abruptly.”
“Many Historical Mysteries in Platteville Cemeteries,” Wisconsin Capital Times December 12, 1962
(Or, the part of the story that there’s absolutely no mystery about at all! Updated January 31, 2022)
by Terry Burns, Laurie Graney and Kristal Prohaska
In the first article in this series, we raised a series of questions about this small park in the center of Platteville, Wisconsin. We noted that through this one small space runs a plethora of historic mysteries, echoing against some of the most painful times in the city’s past: the removal of native peoples, the 1850s cholera epidemic, city founder (and slave owner) John Rountree’s control of the press, and the division of people in town into pro- and anti-slavery factions.
We asked whether the small mound in the center was a Native American burial mound and if there are other mounds there; who other than 1812 veteran Thomas Aiken is buried there (and how do we know he was buried there), what is known about the “mystery stone” on the north side of the park, and what is known about the large group of native people were who gathered in Indian Park a century ago for a three-day ceremony.
Platteville’s tiny Indian Park, bounded by North Court and 4th Streets between West Dewey and Lewis Streets, seems to have been intersected by most of the major traumas of 19th-century Platteville: the removal of Native Americans, the cholera epidemic, and the legacy of the Civil War.
To answer these questions, we’ll need to also circle back through local history through several lenses. In this part of the series, we’ll look at the things we know are certain, and proceed from that to what is probable.
The first line we’ll follow is the story of War of 1812 veteran Thomas Aiken and other cholera victims. We’ll be looking at what has happened that can be locally or nationally documented. We’ll be dealing with recorded history.
The role of two 1800s epidemics (smallpox and cholera) play main roles in this story. The first World War and a third epidemic (Spanish flu) may explain why no one was much paying attention to “Indian Park” when the state, then the city, ordered bodies to be removed from the ground there in 1917 and 1918. We know for certain some of those bodies were never removed; in fact, at least one family, that of William Aiken, was prevented from removing them.
Perhaps those not directly involved were understandably focused on the draft for the Great War: stories of it dominated the Platteville Journal from March 1917 until local soldiers returned. The draft age for “young men” was about to be increased to 40 years of age just before the war ended. As soldiers returned, the “Spanish flu” broke out, and remained through 1919. One can imagine that there was little interest in digging up victims of one epidemic during another.
Let’s begin with names for the park, then move on to one family’s story.
Since the time white settlers first arrived in Plattevile, “Indian Park” has been known by various names (for a more exact reference of who called it what, and when, please see the History of Indian Park page.)
“Indian Park” (from at least 1912 and multiple times since)
Cemetery Park (1918)
Rountree Park (1918)
“North Park” (1929 and multiple times through 1961)
“Children’s Park” (1938)
“Fourth Street Park (also known as North Park and Indian Park)” (1959)
“Indian Park” (current name)
Indian Park, Est. 1917. Why this date?
Few if any current residents seem to remember any name but “Indian Park.” Long-time resident Thomas Boll told us that he and his family could not remember any name since Indian Park used since the 1940s. James Boll, who grew up next to the park, also could recall no other name. The sign says “Indian Park, Est. 1917,” though this date relates to when it became a park, not to the specific name (which by the next year, 1918, would briefly be “Cemetery Park” then “Rountree Park.”) In 1917, the state legislature under Chapter 307 granted the City of Platteville the right to “take care of the grounds therein.” From this point on, “the use of said lands for interment shall be prohibited and the title thereto shall be vested in the said city of Platteville.”
Popular books on the area invariably refer to it as a place that was once a cemetery and which still contains burials. Two such books are shown below.
Walking Tours of Wisconsin’s Historic Towns (1998) describes the park as an “unmarked cemetery in which cholera victims were buried” (p. 72).
Two Tours of Historic Platteville, Betty Burgett’s 1986 compilation of two Eagle Scout projects one completed by James Burgett (1976) and the other by David Burgett (1984) says that this “block of land has been left unmarred by the advances of civilization because the graves must not be moved due to the fact that the victims died of cholera” (p. 7). It also mentions the marker of 1812 veteran Thomas Aiken.
Many accounts exist of the cholera epidemic that raged in Wisconsin from 1849 through 1855, and peaked in 1850.1 Yet it seems hard to find any obituaries or church sexton records. Why? And if those records don’t exist, how do we know there were cholera burials?
The reason why there aren’t obituaries is fairly simple. The only paper in town, the Independent American started by city founder John Rountree, stopped publication during the epidemic’s peak years of 1850 and 1851.
City founder John H. Rountree encouraged settlers to “explore this section of Country;” that is, to come to Platteville. Here’s an ad he placed in a Galena advertising bulletin in 1835. As has become more common knowledge in recent times, Rountree and some other early settlers also brought slaves into Platteville, then part of the free Michigan Territory. This ad appeared as the frontispiece in Gardner, Douglas and Greens 1922 “Early Days in Platteville,” as noted below.
One may speculate why: Rountree had previously advertised in places like Galena for settlers to come to Platteville, and perhaps it was not easy to recruit people to town during an epidemic! From a practical perspective, it may also be that the manpower necessary for printing a paper was considered an unneeded luxury at that time.
What about the lack of church records? That brings us to a point we’ll explore in greater detail below: the Presbyterian church in town, associated with the fledgling Platteville Academy, had in the mid-1840s begun the unusual step of changing its governance structure. Here we see the first submerged hint of the slavery/anti-slavery factions in Platteville. The Presbyterian church nationally had taken a strong anti-slavery stance as early as 1818; city founder Rountree (and some others in town) owned slaves through the 1840s. Yet at least two other homes in Platteville or the vicinity were stops on the underground railroad, ways that sympathetic northern whites helped escaped slaves to freedom in Canada. There were also at least two free Black families in Platteville, and many more in the Pleasant Ridge community in Lancaster. Perhaps the anti-slavery/pro-slavery drama of early Grant county should be an article or book of its own, and indeed material on this subject is now available in ways it was not even a generation ago.2 But let’s return to that major conflict after we follow the story of the one veteran we know is buried in the park, Thomas Aiken.
Four-year-old Mary Andrews, sister Elizabeth and mother Mary all died of cholera in September, 1850.
Miner Thomas Sprague, infant John Sprague, and seven-year-old Julia Sprague all died of cholera in June 1850.
How do we know the name of not just Aiken, but other cholera victims? First and most logically, their families knew their loved ones had died, and many of those families left written histories. In three cases, the stories are mentioned on ancestry.com or find-a-grave.com. Secondly, 1850 was a census year, and along with the census, there was, for deaths that took place during six months of 1850, the U.S. Federal Census Mortality Schedule. The church of Latter-Day Saints has digitized these records; they’re now widely available on places like ancestry.com. In this database, once can find the names of many but not all of those who died.3 Some families, like the Sprague family and the Andrews family, lost multiple members. Not all of those who died are listed: for example, Thomas Aiken and his son William’s fiance Eleanor Donelson are not. Why? Because they were still alive when the 1850 census was taken but died later on.
Remember that 1812 veteran Aiken’s marker is the one legible marker left in the park. Yet the marker is clearly not from 1850. How did it get there? That itself is an interesting story.
Thomas Aiken’s headstone. Google maps street-view, photo courtesy of Jessie Brogley.
In 1917, when the state then later the city ordered all bodies in the park be removed, Thomas P. Aiken’s son William Aiken was still alive. He had two headstones carved, one for his father and the other for his one-time fiance, Eleanor Donelson, who had also died of the epidemic. (Years after his fiancee’s death, William Aiken married a young Swiss woman named Brugger, and many Bruggers still reside in Platteville today.) William Aiken endeavored to move his father and Eleanor Donelson to Hillside cemetery. But then he had to stop. He was told they couldn’t be moved.
Why? Because they were cholera victims, and no one knew then if exhuming the bodies would again spread the disease. There might have been a city order to remove the bodies, but not only did many people not follow it: some, like Aiken, were prevented from following it.
Let’s fast forward to 1975.
A copy of Laura Graney’s typed letter to the the Platteville Journal. A picture of the headstone William Aiken had made for his father is attached to the upper-right.
That year, William Aiken’s granddaughter Laura Graney (mother-in-law to Laurie Graney, one of the authors of this piece) saw an article in the local Platteville Journal‘s folklore column that stated many people believed there was an “Indian” buried in the middle of the park. The article also stated that “all bodies, with the exception of the Indian, were moved.” As she said, “This is not true.”
She told the story we’ve presented in abbreviated form above. To the letter, she attached a picture of the headstone that her grandfather was unable to use for his father. That stone, and the one for Eleanor Donelson, still exist on the Aiken-Graney farm, because the Graneys were never able to exhume the bodies and move them to the proposed new location. The Platteville Journal printed the letter on April 8, 1975.
The article as printed in the April 8, 1975 Platteville Journal
We owe a lot to Laura Graney and the Leo M. Kane American Legion Post #42 for what followed.
In the spirit of the U.S. Bicentennial in 1976 and with the help of Mrs. Graney and her record-keeping, Leo Kane American Legion Post #42 was able to obtain and put in an official veteran’s headstone for Thomas P. Aiken.
That’s the stone you see in the park today. The Platteville Journal article about this dedication appears below.
A July 1976 Platteville Journal article covered the dedication ceremony for THomas P. Aiken’s tombstone in Indian Park
Since that time, other articles have appeared about Aiken, such as this May 23, 2018 article by UW-Platteville archivist James Hibbard
Now that we know something about the group we know is buried in Indian Park, let’s consider another group of settlers who might be buried there: smallpox victims.
In 1835, surveying was begun to plot out the first lots and sections of the city of Platteville. Known as the “Original Plan of the Village of Platteville,” this survey was expanded the following year to include 28 more lots, including the park/cemetery. Maj. Rountree advertised in Galena papers for people to move to Platteville.
In 1837, Thomas P. Aiken was among those who arrived, traveling with his family and the Donelson family up from Illinois. In 1839, he and his family settled at the current location of the Aiken-Graney farm. That same year, the Platteville Academy (which would become the State Normal College then merge with the Mining school to become UW-Platteville) was founded. It was closely associated with the anti-slavery Presbyterian church. In fact, until 1853, the church and the Academy met in the same building. Presbyterian Rev. John Lewis and his wife Electa Lewis taught there, along with the first principle, Josiah Pickard.
But in 1843, disaster struck. Smallpox raged in Platteville from December 1843 to February 1844. The population was around 500, and 226 got smallpox, according to a Presbyterian Missionary report probably written by Alvin Dixon and extensively quoted in “Early Days in Platteville” (p. 14).4 There is no record of where those who died were buried, but as late as 1854 there were only two graveyards in the city, one being “Hill Graveyard,” now known as “Indian Park.” It seems logical that those who died of cholera only a few years later might be buried the same place as smallpox burials from less than a decade before. But there’s no record of this that we can find.
Similarly, there the stone we’ve come to call the “mystery stone,” located on the northern side of the park near 4th street.
No one so far has deciphered what the words are on this “mystery stone.” Photo by Kristal Prohaska.
What does it say? How old is it? No one we know–and two of us are life-long area residents as are our parents–has ever deciphered it.5 Looking closely, we have tried every name possible. Is this “Montgomery” misspelled? Are the letters above the main name Latin, or Roman numerals? We agree with Rollo Jamison Museum Director Erik Flesch, who reads the final letters as –MEEV. Is this, as he has suggested, an Eastern European, perhaps Bulgarian or Hungarian, last name, and the people or persons buried separately because of the early prejudice against Eastern Europeans? We don’t know. None of the names we could tentatively suggest match burial records or other death records… though of course, the further back in time one goes, the more likely it is for a death to be undocumented. Could this be a smallpox burial? A Menomonie name (since they tend to be very long single words, like this one)? Again, we don’t know.
That the burial stone has Roman letters at the least suggests contact with European or British Isles settlers, trappers or traders, but that could be before the town existed. This stone could be much older than the other burials in the park, as there were non-natives passing through the area long before Platteville existed. If it were the stone of someone who died and whose family or fellow trappers or traders had to continue on, it might be similar to the stone described to the left, placed alongside the Oregon Trail over the body of Plattevillian John Holman, who followed the gold rush to California along with Lewis & Clark Expedition old-timer Alexander Hamilton Willard and his family. Holman died and was placed under a large stone, perhaps like our “mystery stone,” to keep his body from being eaten by varmints.
This Lancaster Teller article from the early 190os reported “almost thirty bodies” buried in the land now called “Indian Park.” It also alludes to some of the other legal battles that have swirled around this small parcel of land.
So, what do we have so far? We know that the area called Indian Park was a cholera burial ground and still contains many unmarked graves. It contains a headstone that may be older that those burials, but we don’t know what that stone says. We know the terrain of the park once looked much different–a hilly area called Hill Graveyard that once contained many nearby springs.
How did this area turn into a city park? We’ve alluded to struggles between different slavery and anti-slavery factions and a plethora of deed changes and name changes. Its time to look at some of those changes and how they connect to regional history.
In the Fall of 1847 Reverend John Lewis and his family arrived in Platteville from nearby New Diggings. Rev. Lewis and Josiah Pickard are known today for their efforts in helping John Rountree found the Academy, which was the early start of the UW-Platteville. Lewis was installed as pastor of the Presbyterian Church; Pickard was the Academy’s first Principle.
On February 22, 1848, John Rountree deeded land to the Presbyterian Church to be used as a burying ground. It was to be “free to all persons to use and occupy for the purpose of interring the dead without tax assessment or charge.” Today, this parcel of land is known as Indian Park, but at that time, it became known as Hill Cemetery or Hill Graveyard (as reported in two articles, one in 1853 and the other in 1854, in the only paper in town, the Independent American, owned by John Rountree.)
Then something strange happened: the Presbyterian church that Lewis ministered at switched denominations. Lewis continued to preach there, but it was suddenly Congregationalist and he was Presbyterian.
Its easier to start a new church or to become an independent church than to shift from one protestant denomination to another. But on February 6, 1849 the Wisconsin State Legislature passed an act under Chapter 25 that authorized the Presbyterian Church in Platteville, Grant County, to change its name and form of government.6 The church it became, the Congregationalist Church in Platteville, has since been designated a national historic landmark, and this is an important albeit little explored part of their history.
The same year, 1849, the Presbyterian Church property was deeded to the Congregational Church for the sum of $1. The deed specifically mentions the special act of the Wisconsin State Legislature mentioned above, as well as that included with this property is a “certain one acre lot” that is “described and used as a burying ground.”7
How the switch and the underlying tensions between Rountree’s generosity in donating land, on the one hand, and his clear sympathies (as a slave-owner then former slave-owner) with the south as the United States moves towards the Civil War, on the other, is a topic much deserving of further exploration. Similarly, how this affects Platteville Academy, which continues to be run by those opposed to slavery connected to the Presbyterian church even as that church which it shares a building with becomes the Congregationalist church, also deserves further study. By 1853, the Academy moved to a new location, the one known today as Rountree Hall Apartments.
Platteville Academy as it appeared until 1853: A large wood framed building on Lewis Street about a block away from “Hill Cemetery.”
Platteville Academy as it appeared until 1866, at its new location. Today this is Rountree Apartments, and a historical marker in front tells its history.
The Academy’s first principle. Yes, if you are part of the UW-Platteville community, this is who Pickard Hall is named for.
The tensions over slavery in Platteville of course affected the academy, and even caused one prospective student, a “colored girl” named Ellen Woodell, to not matriculate. This incident is also much deserving of future study. At least one recent book, Slaving Zones (mentioned in note 2 below), says Woodell instead attended Rockford Seminary in Illinois, yet no record of her attendance exists at that seminary, based on the research of Laurie Graney.
At the time I entered Platteville Academy there were a number of boys and young men from Southern slave- holding families enrolled as students. They were among the popular and influential students. In course of time a refined colored girl came to town with a prominent white family and was entered as a student of the Academy. There were threats on the part of the Southern students of leaving school if that colored girl were allowed to remain. The matter was taken up by the trustees of the Academy, who decided the girl must he dismissed. Mr. Pickard, being ill at the time, gave notice to the trustees that when the colored girl was sent away they would receive his resignation as principal of the Academy
Maria Greene Douglas, “Early Days in Platteville,” Wisconsin Magazine of History Vol. 6 p. 59.
Against this backdrop, and still reeling from a smallpox epidemic, the cholera epidemic hit Platteville. The city only had two cemeteries. It’s a safe bet that those who died of cholera were all buried the same place, regardless of their view on slavery or their religious denomination. People were frightened of this highly contagious disease. Larry Butson still tells the story of a man who lived outside of town near his farm, also the farm of his ancestors: when the man died of cholera, he was left in his cabin and the cabin was burned to the ground. So frightened were people of contracting the deadly disease that they were not willing to remove the body of someone who had died of it.
The last cholera burial we have been able to find is that of Enoch Sanford, buried in the Presbyterian (Congregational) burying ground in 1855. That same year, on August 17, a warranty deed was recorded between John and Lydia Rountree and John Lewis. This warranty deed was for 21 acres that surround the area of Indian Park. A mortgage is also recorded on this date; you can find a transcription of the entire document on our admittedly dry “History of Indian Park” page right under the table that lists different names for the park and who called it what, and when. Notice that when Lewis buys this land from Rountree the one acre containing the cemetery is excluded.
John H. Rountree
It would appear that these actions concern both the denominational change of the Presbyterian church to a Congregationalist church and the 1853 change of location of Platteville Academy. It also seems that from then until Rev. Lewis’s untimely death, legal issues between the man known as “Saint John” and city founder Rountree keep shifting. Why they exist we can only speculate upon, but there’s no doubt that the legal issues between these two men, both men deeply intertwined with the city’s religious, educational and civic history, live on and have had the intentional or unintentional effect of hiding “Indian Park’s” past as a cholera burial ground and perhaps (as we’ll discuss in our final article) as a native burial ground and/or mound complex.
Rev. John Lewis
In 1855, the county surveyor certified that he had laid out lots in the Town of Platteville for John Lewis, E. W. Covell and John Rountree. The next year, for unclear reasons, Rountree released Lewis from the mortgage on the 21 acres surrounding Hill Cemetery (Indian Park.) Then in 1858, a warranty deed between Rountree and Lewis appeared. This deed is especially strange since it is not recorded until 1873, 13 years after Rev. Lewis died.
Rev. Lewis’ marker in Greenwood Cemetery
Rev. John Lewis died of tuberculosis on September 2, 1860, at the age of 43. Presbyterian records note that he was laid to rest on an afternoon of “autumnal splendor,” and that the entire Academy followed his casket to the cemetery. While records state that he is buried at “Hillside cemetery,” that may be an error, since that cemetery is quite a way for pallbearers to carry a casket. More likely, the procession just walked down what is now Lewis Street for a couple of blocks to Hill Cemetery. (Lewis’s headstone is in Greenwood Cemetery, which didn’t exist at the time. We speculate that the headstone was moved from Hill Cemetery to Greenwood Cemetery in 1918 when some bodies, or at the least some headstones, were removed to another location.)
After Lewis died, his wife became heir to his estate. While she moved to Chicago, she continued life-long friendships with people in Platteville, according to Josiah Pickard as quoted in her lengthy June 7, 1911 front page PlattevilleJournal obituary.
From 1860 and through 1904, numerous irregular events appear on the tax rolls concerning Indian Park. For instance, in 1868, 1869 Eliphalet and Rebecca Covell and Electa Lewis sign a quit claim deed for Lots 9, 10, 19 & 20 of Covell’s Addition (Indian Park) to John Rountree for $50… even though none of them have ever owned the property. (Lewis owned the 21 acres around the cemetery but not the cemetery itself, which had been a gift from Rountree to the city.)
After John Rountree died, his heirs (in 1898) attempted to sue the Presbyterian Synod to eject them from the ground and to terminate the land’s use as a cemetery… but note that Chapter 25 of the 1849 Wisconsin State Legislature says the Congregational Church is now the successor in law of the Presbyterian Church and has been sold the cemetery as well as other church property. The Congregational Church had never (and still has never) sold the land.
Court documents show that the court found that the Rountree heirs were entitled to possession of 41’ 6” on the south side of lots 10 and 19, but “the balance of lots 10, 19, 9 and 20 [of Covell’s Addition, or “Indian Park”] are for cemetery purposes.” Why this tiny strip of land was shaved off of the lot remains another mystery.
Eventually E.B. Rice, in 1901, put a lien on the property, for for compensation of materials, labor and attorney fees, (caring, upkeep and maintenance), of the “Presbyterian burying ground.” Rice, who lived right next to the cemetery in Lot 8 of Covell’s Addition, got the land and sold it to a man named Barrett; Barrett paid no taxes in 1901 or 1902 because the land was a “graveyard” . . . although taxes were earlier, and irregularly, paid on the land when they should not have been. 8
Then suddenly, and for no reason we can determine, the 1904 tax roll record indicates that “Indian Park” is “public property.”
For just over fifteen years, nothing happened. Then on May 29, 1917, the state legislature passed an act to “vacate” the cemetery. One can’t help but wonder why the state has even taken notice of this small piece of land. But for some reason, they have. The city is given six months from the passage of the act to “remove all remains” to suitable lots in Greenwood Cemetery. “Thereafter,” the act declares, “the use of said lands for interment shall be prohibited and the title thereto shall be vested in the said City of Platteville.”
One can’t say the City jumped right into action. It took them over ten months to do anything at all… no doubt because at the same time, the draft of young men called up for World War I was increasing and attention was focused there. Platteville City Council meeting minutes show that the council did not vote to remove the remains from the cemetery until April 3, 1918.
A 1918 map of part of Platteville. “Indian Park” was then briefly called “Cemetery Park,” and appears in Covell’s Addition just north of Lewis Street
Once this task was completed (and it clearly never was), the city council authorized and empowered the “Rountree Park Committee” to level the surface to the ground. (Apparently the name “Cemetery Park” was not a big hit, so it briefly became “Rountree Park.”)
Laurie Graney continued to read through the Platteville City Council meeting minutes for over two years from this date, and did not observe where the Rountree Park Committee reported back to the council that their task had been completed. Because of this, its not clear whether the park was leveled or not. It is clear, however, that during the preceding 90 years, someone and likely many people at different times had changed the topography of both the park and much of old Platteville. Not only is the area once called “Hill Graveyard” no longer hilly, but it no longer has springs. Elsewhere we’ve referred to a wonderful description penned by J. H. Evans in 1917, “Platteville Ninety Years Ago, as the Site Appeared to our Pioneers / Also Some Account of the Abundance of Water that Greeted Early Settlers.” Here’s how Evans described the part of land around “Indian Park”:
West of the city along the marshy ravine which headed near the present Fourth street there were many springs. First in order was the Hardnocks, then came the Doesher spring which afforded water for the cows in pastures as late as ten years ago. On the Grindell property, a spring for a time furnished water for the manufacture of brick. Further west on the H.S. Rountree lot there was a spring with a large flow furnishing abundant water for stock. Near this spring the village boys of 60 years ago (screened by abundant timber) had built a dam to impound water for a ‘swimming hole.’ For a few seasons this afforded the kids a fine bathing pool. Just on the south of Adams street, on a lot now owned by the E. H. Doescher estate, there was a spring notable in early times as a camping place of emigrants and gypsies. Further down the ravine there were springs on the Shepherd lot, the Oudyn lot, the Charles Nye lot, the Homer Perry lot, and the Carsten lot. Doubtless there were others. Some may yet continue to flow, but most of them have been drained by the shafts sunk for mining.
J.H. Evans, in the January 31, 1917 Platteville Journal
What a beautiful place that part of town must have been! The profusion of springs also starts to suggest an answer to our final mystery: whether there is an “Indian” buried in the middle of “Indian Park,” and/or whether the small rise left in the center is a Native American conical mound. That will be the subject of our final article.
If you have read this far and wonder why we have spent so much time on a small parcel of land, we’ll tell you. We want the history of this place to be recorded and remembered.
The City of Platteville’s interest in this park is seems to be periodic. Every few decades the city shows interest in re-purposing Indian Park. Along with the instances we’ve discussed above is another in the late 1950s, when the City Council explored the idea of selling off Indian Park as four buildable lots. (Attorney Block advised against this, presumably because bodies are literally still buried there, and that letter is still on file with the legal firm.)
Recently there has been talk of re-purposing it again. Why not re-purpose it to remind people here of all the historic currents running through one small piece of land?
Perhaps it is time to get the history of Indian Park carved in stone and shown its proper respect. Think of what a wonderful teaching tool it could be!
Notes
1One that is easily accessible is Peter T. Harstad’s “Disease and Sickness on the Wisconsin Frontier: Cholera” (1960), available on JSTOR at https://www.jstor.org/stable/4633516
Slave-owning in northern states is no longer the secret it once was. Slaving Zones is one of several recent works to address this issue.
2Along with references to Platteville in recent books such as Slaving Zones (pp. 288, 298, 306), UW-Platteville archivist James Hibbard has recently given the first of three presentations at the Rollo Jamison Museum in Platteville about slavery in the city. In 2019, students at UW-Platteville worked with historian Eugene Tesdahl to repair the headstone of Rachel, one of John Rountree’s slaves. Slavery was illegal in Wisconsin and as archivist Hibbard reported, local pressure eventual resulted in Rountree and some but not all of the Platteville slave-owners freeing their slaves, even though strong pro-slavery sentiment remained.
3For the many examples we gave in our presentation of those listed as having died of cholera, please see our History of Indian Park page. These names all were all entries in the Federal Census Mortality Schedules Index, 1850-1880 [database on-line] as transcribed by the Church of Latter-Day Saints church and made available on Ancestry.com. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 1999.
4“Early Days in Platteville,” by D.J. Gardner, Truman Douglas, and Maria Greene Douglas originally appeared in the WIsconsin Magazine of History Vol. VI No. 1, September 1922. It is reprinted in its entirety here: https://archive.org/details/earlydaysinplatt00gard/page/12/mode/2up
5The one exception we’ll talk about in our next article, but in case you can’t wait: a piece in the December 12, 1962 Wisconsin Capital-Times quoted long-time resident Harley Ritter who thought it said “Stephens.” We have never known Mr. Ritter, do not know where he came by this information, and cannot see that name on the sign. However, we will consider the reporting in this article–both what it says about this stone and about repeated Native American gatherings in the park–in our final article.
6February 6, 1849 the Wisconsin State Legislature passes an act, Chapter 25, that authorizes the Presbyterian Church in Platteville, Grant County, to change its name and form of government.
“Section 1. That it shall and may be lawful for the members of the Presbyterian Church in the town of Platteville, in Grant County, to change their name and form of government to that of a Congregational Church.
“Section 2. That the trustees of the aforesaid Presbyterian Church be and they are hereby empowered to sell, lease, or otherwise dispose of the property belonging to said church, and to make, execute, and deliver to the trustees of the Congregational Church, when duly chosen, deeds therefore, under their hands and seals: Provided, that a majority of the members of the said Presbyterian Church concur in such transfer by their votes cast at a meeting called for the purpose, of which public notice shall be given from the pulpit, at least two Sabbaths next preceding the time of holding such a meeting.
“Section 3. That the said Congregational Church, when formed as hereinbefore provided, shall be the successor in law to the said Presbyterian Church, and when the same shall have been duly organized as a Congregational Church, under an act of the legislature of the Territory of Wisconsin, approved February 8th, 1847, entitled “an act to provide for the incorporation of the Protestant Episcopal Church and other religious societies in the Territory of Wisconsin,” then the property both real and personal, owned by said Presbyterian Church, shall by virtue of proper deeds of conveyance, made as hereinbefore provided, vest in the Congregational Church, so organized as aforesaid: Provided, that nothing herein contained shall be so construed as to give the trustees of the Presbyterian Church the power to sell or convey the Platteville Academy.
7, 8For a list of all the deed changes which follow, see Laurie Graney’s “What I Know About Indian Park as of April 2020.” After her timeline, she has a list of tax rolls and a transcription of one of the most important deeds.
By the way, if you’d rather see this as a video, the authors did present on this at the Platteville Senior Center. That presentation is on Youtube in three parts, beginning here. The follow-up presentation, called “The Mysteries of Indian Park, Revealed,” was postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic and did not occur until September 10, 2020. That second presentation begins here.
The following contains a summary of my research into Indian Park compiled over many years time. It was the basis of the presentation by Terry Burns, Kristal Prohaska and myself on the Mysteries of Indian Park. Many of the newspaper clippings and other family information saved over the years by my mother-in-law, Laura Graney, are also included in the article, especially in Part II.
For a reference page listing non-primary resources, please see the final article in the series by Terry Burns, Kristal Prohaska, and myself.
The research here was the basis for the research we did from 2021-2022 to learn more about the park’s history.
1837 – 1839 –
Thomas Paine Aiken, (buried in Indian Park), and his family arrive in the
Platteville area in 1837, and they live with Thomas and Laura Donelson. Laura Donelson is Thomas Aiken’s sister. In 1839, Thomas Aiken purchases a farm
homestead consisting of 80 acres in Section 2 of Platteville Township. Descendants of Thomas Aiken have lived in the
Platteville area ever since. Upon Thomas
Aiken’s death, his son, William Aiken, purchases the Aiken family farm
homestead. Upon the death of William, the
farm was then purchased by William’s son, Leslie Aiken. Leslie Aiken had one child, a daughter by the
name of Laura. Laura and her mother,
Sarah Aiken, were teachers by profession, and they were very well respected in
the Platteville community. Sarah taught
at country schools in the area for many years.
Laura taught at many country schools in the area, as well as the
Platteville public schools. Laura
married Wilburn Graney in 1940. Upon
Laura’s death in 2006, part of the family farm homestead was inherited by
Richard (Dick) Graney. It should be
noted that there are other Aiken family members still living in the Platteville
area today. The Aiken family farm
homestead is now 181 years old.
1847 – In the
Fall of 1847 Reverend John Lewis and his family arrive in Platteville from New
Diggings. Rev. Lewis and Josiah Pickard
are known for their efforts in helping to found the Academy, which was the
early start of the UW-Platteville.
1848 – Rev.
Lewis is installed as pastor of the Presbyterian Church.
1848 – On
February 22, 1848 – John Rountree deeds land to the Presbyterian Church to be used
as a burying ground for the interment of the dead. It is to be free to all persons to use and
occupy for the purpose of interring the dead without tax assessment or charge.
Today, this parcel of land is known as Indian Park. This deed states that the land is to be used “for
and in consideration of their respect for the Christian burial of the dead”. The deed says the land is to “forever remain
a cemetery”, and that it is “not to be used for any other purpose whatsoever”.
1849 – On
February 6, 1849 the Wisconsin State Legislature passes an act, Chapter 25,
that authorizes the Presbyterian Church in Platteville, Grant County, to change
its name and form of government.
Section 1.
That it shall and may be lawful for the members of the Presbyterian
Church in the town of Platteville, in Grant County, to change their name and
form of government to that of a Congregational Church.
Section 2.
That the trustees of the aforesaid Presbyterian Church be and they are
hereby empowered to sell, lease, or otherwise dispose of the property belonging
to said church, and to make, execute, and deliver to the trustees of the
Congregational Church, when duly chosen, deeds therefore, under their hands and
seals: Provided, that a majority of the
members of the said Presbyterian Church concur in such transfer by their votes
cast at a meeting called for the purpose, of which public notice shall be given
from the pulpit, at least two Sabbaths next preceding the time of holding such
a meeting.
Section 3.
That the said Congregational Church, when formed as hereinbefore
provided, shall be the successor in law to the said Presbyterian Church, and
when the same shall have been duly organized as a Congregational Church, under
an act of the legislature of the Territory of Wisconsin, approved February 8th,
1847, entitled “an act to provide for the incorporation of the Protestant
Episcopal Church and other religious societies in the Territory of Wisconsin,”
then the property both real and personal, owned by said Presbyterian Church,
shall by virtue of proper deeds of conveyance, made as hereinbefore provided,
vest in the Congregational Church, so organized as aforesaid: Provided, that nothing herein contained shall
be so construed as to give the trustees of the Presbyterian Church the power to
sell or convey the Platteville Academy.
1849 – On July
9, 1849, a deed is recorded in Grant County.
This deed deeds the Presbyterian Church property to the Congregational
Church for the sum of $1. This deed
mentions the “special act” that was passed by the Wisconsin State Legislature,
which was approved on February 6, 1849.
This deed specifically states that included with this property is a “certain one acre lot” that is “described and used as a burying ground”.
1850 – On
August 27, 1850, Thomas Paine Aiken and Eleanor Donelson die from cholera. Aiken and Donelson are buried in the
Presbyterian (Congregational) burying ground.
1855 – Enoch
Sanford dies of cholera and is buried in the Presbyterian (Congregational)
burying ground. Sanford’s will is on the
Ancestry website.
1855 – On
August 17, 1855 a warranty deed is recorded between John and Lydia Rountree and
John Lewis. This warranty deed is for 21
acres that surround the area of Indian Park.
A mortgage is also recorded on this date.
1855 – The
county surveyor certifies that he has laid out lots in the Town of Platteville
for John Lewis, E. W. Covell and John Rountree.
1856 – A release
of mortgage is recorded for the 21 acres that John Lewis bought from John
Rountree.
1858 –
Warranty deed – John Lewis and Electa Lewis to E. W. Covell. It is interesting to note that this
warranty deed was not recorded until May 14, 1875.
1860 – On September
2, 1860, John Lewis dies at the age of 43.
Lewis was very much respected and loved in the Platteville
community. People referred to him as
“Saint John”. Lewis was laid to rest on
an afternoon of “autumnal splendor”. The
entire Academy followed his casket to the cemetery.
1860 –
December 10, 1860 – A certificate of probate for John Lewis’ estate is recorded. Electa Lewis is named as heir to his
estate.
1861 – November
6, 1861 – Tax Deed – Ownership of the cemetery goes to Grant County. (According to Register of Deeds Marilyn
Pierce, this should not have happened as the parcel is a cemetery and
cemeteries were not to be taxed.) (The
tax amount of $2.71 was due from the year 1857.) W. R. Beach represented Grant County in the
purchase of the cemetery. It should be
noted that I have tied W. R. Beach to the 1850 Beetown cholera. There is an entry about the Beetown cholera
in the 1900 Holford edition of the History of Grant County Wisconsin, which
ties Beach to this event. (Is it
coincidental that Beach would purchase a cemetery for the county with known
cholera victims?)
1868 – On May
30, 1868 Grant County quit claim deeds the Presbyterian Burying Ground to John
Rountree for $3.
1869 – On July
20, 1869 Eliphalet and Rebecca Covell and Electa Lewis quit claim deed Lots 9,
10, 19 & 20 of Covell’s Addition, (Indian Park), to John Rountree for
$50. (It is unknown as to why Rountree
did this, as the Covells and Electa Lewis did not own and had never owned these
lots, and Rountree already had a quit claim deed recorded with Grant
County. ???????????? Electa Lewis had long ago left Platteville
and was living in Chicago at this time.)
1875 – tax
roll records show that John Rountree has ownership of lots 9, 10, 19 & 20
of Covell’s Addition.
1890 – John
Rountree dies on June 27, 1890.
1895 – July
25th, 1895 – Lydia Rountree, Jennie Rountree and John S. Rountree sell Lots 9,
10, 19 and 20 of Covell’s Addition and several other parcels to Robert
Spear. (Robert Spear lived in Platteville,
and he is listed as a “capitalist” on the 1900 census. I also located documentation indicating that
he was on the Grant County Board of Supervisors in 1898. Robert Spear’s father was John Spear. John Spear was on the Platteville City
Council in 1892. The 1920 census shows
John Spear was a bank president. While
internet surfing I later found info showing that a John Spear was the president
of the State Bank in Platteville.
1898 –
Rountree heirs attempt to sue the Presbyterian Synod to eject them from the
ground and to terminate its use as a cemetery.
(Note Chapter 25 of the 1849
Wisconsin State Legislature says the Congregational Church is now the successor
in law of the Presbyterian Church.)
1898– Court document showing that the Rountree
heirs are entitled to possession of 41’ 6” on the south side of lots 10 and
19. The balance of lots 10, 19, 9 and 20
are for cemetery purposes.
1901 – January
15, 1901 – E. B. Rice has a lien
recorded at Grant County for lots 9, 10, 19, & 20 of Covell’s
Addition. (The word “affidavit” is
written alongside this handwritten document.)
The lien is for compensation of materials, labor and attorney fees,
(caring, upkeep and maintenance), of the “Presbyterian burying ground”.
1901 – January
16, 1901 –A deed is recorded at Grant County, which transfers the ownership of
Indian Park/Cemetery, Presbyterian burying ground, (except for a strip of land
on the south side of lots 10 and 19), to O. W. Barrett. Barrett purchases the cemetery from E. B.
Rice and Della E. Rice for $500.
1901 & 1902
– tax roll records show that O. W. Barrett is the owner, but no taxes were paid
as the said property is a “cemetery” and “graveyard”.
1902 – June 9,
1902 – Survey is done for Lots 10 & 19.
1903 – tax
roll record line is left blank.
1904 – tax
roll record indicates that the property is now “public property”.
1917 – May 29,
1917 – The state legislature passes an act to “vacate” the cemetery. The city is given six months from the passage
of the act to “remove all remains” to suitable lots in Greenwood Cemetery in
the said City of Platteville.
Thereafter, the use of said lands for interment shall be prohibited and
the title thereto shall be vested in the said City of Platteville. (Platteville City Council meeting minutes
show that the council did not vote to remove the remains from the cemetery
until April 3, 1918. (The April 3, 1918 date
is over 10 months from the passage of this act.) Once this task was completed, the city
council authorized and empowered the Rountree Park Committee to level the
surface to the ground, etc.. The
remains of several individuals still remain in Indian Park, as these
individuals died of cholera. At that
point in time, it was believed, if the remains were “dug up” the dreaded
disease could once again be spread.) I
continued to read through the Platteville City Council meeting for over two
years from this date, and I did not
observe where the Rountree Park Committee reported back to the council that
their task had been completed.
1917 –
Sometime around this time the Aiken family ordered grave markers for Thomas
Aiken and Eleanor Donelson to be placed at the “new” cemetery where their
remains were to be moved. According to newspaper
accounts and what my mother-in-law told to me, the Aiken family was prevented
from moving these remains, as Thomas Aiken and Eleanor Donelson had died of
cholera and there was fear of spreading the cholera once again. The grave markers were found on the family
century farm several years back. Laura
Graney told me that she and my father-in-law, Wilburn, had buried the grave
markers. She also mentioned the
approximate location of them. It is
possible that we might be able to locate the grave markers. Copies of the grave markers photos have been
sent to the Wisconsin State Historical Society.
1918 – March
8, 1918 – City Council votes to rename the cemetery “Rountree Park”.
1918 – April
3, 1918 – City Council votes to remove all bodies found in Rountree Park and to
rebury them in Greenwood Cemetery.
Rountree Park Committee is then authorized and empowered to level the
surface of the ground and to erect fences on the north and south sides of said
park and that the expense, thereof, be borne by the city.
1919 – tax
roll record line is left blank.
1920 & 1921– tax roll records indicate “park lots 9 &
10”.
1929 & 1930
– tax roll records indicate “North Park”
9, 10, 19, 20.
1936 – tax
roll record indicates “North Park” lots
9, 10, 19, 20.
1945 – tax roll
record indicates “North Park”.
1951 – tax
roll record indicates “North Park”.
1961 – tax
roll record indicates “North Park”.
1962 – tax
roll record indicates “City of Platteville”.
1959 – November
11, 1959 – Atty. Robert Block sends a letter to the city clerk that indicates
the Council had authorized him to secure an abstract to the property known as
“North Park”. The purpose of this was so
that the city could possibly sell the property as building lots. Atty. Block states in his letter that the
Grant County Abstract Company said that the abstract did not show title to any
one person or group, and the property is in an uncertain state in that three
different groups own some interest of record in the property. (See Attorney Block’s letter for specific
details.)
1975 – April
1975 – Laura Graney writes a letter to the Platteville Journal. The letter talks about an error that had been
made in the Platteville Folklore column of the paper. Her letter to the editor was then published
in the April 8, 1975 edition of the Platteville Journal. Laura’s letter is in response to a Folklore
Column that was published in the April 3, 1975 edition of the Platteville
Journal. Of special note is the mention of one Indian Mound left in the
cemetery.
1976 – April
13, 1976 – Platteville City Council approves permission for the Thomas Paine
Aiken marker to be placed in Indian Park.
1985 – November
22, 1985 – City of Platteville registers the Application for and Approval of
Lot Re-Division with the Grant County Register of Deeds, as the City wanted to
“remove” the interior lot lines to create one lot, so that Indian Park would be
only one parcel.
1986 – December
22, 1986. The City of Platteville
completes an application, which is approved by Grant County, to remove the
interior lot lines from Indian Park/Cemetery.
TAX ROLES
1895 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 & 20.
1896 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 & 20.
1897 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 & 20.
1898 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 & 20.
1899 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 &20. (There is a note in the “by whom paid” column
that says “Cemetery Illegal Account”.
1900 John Rountree Est. 9, 10, 19 & 20. (Note that indicates it is a “Cemetery”.
1901 Note that lines 3 and 4 indicate that O. W.
Barrett and the John Rountree Est. are owners.
9, 10, 19 & 20….then there is a note saying 35 feet S. side Lots 10
& 19, Cemetery”. There is no tax
information.
1902 O. W. Barrett is the owner listed. Lots 9, 10, 19 & 20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S.
side 19. “Graveyard”.
1903 Public Property Ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. side of
10, 19. Lots 9, 10, 19, 20. No tax
information is listed.
1904 Public Property Ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. Side of
10, 19. Lots 9, 10, 19, 20. No tax information listed.
1905 Public Property Lots 9, 10, 19, 20. Ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. Side of 9, 10, 19,
20(??????) No tax information
listed. Whatever information was written
in the “By Whom Paid” column was erased.
1906 Public Property 9, 10, 19 and 20. Ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. side 10, 19.
1907 Public Property 9-10 and 19 and 20 ex 41 ½ ft. off S side of
10-19.
1908 Public Property 9-10-19 & 20 ex. 41 ½
ft. off S. side of 10-19.
1909 Public Property 9-10-19-20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. side of 10
& 19.
1910 Public Property 9-10-19-20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S. side of 10
& 19.
1911 Unknown Owner 9-10-19-20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S.
side of 10 & 19.
1912 Unknown Owner 9-10-19-20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S.
side of 10 & 19.
1913 Unknown Owner 9-10-19-20 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S.
side of 10 & 19.
1914 “Unnone” Owner 9-10-19 and 20 ex. 41 ½ ft.
off S. side of 10 & 19.
1915 Unknown Owner 9-10-19 ex. 41 ½ ft. off S.
side of 10 & 19. (Nothing about 20.)
1916 Unknown Owner 9 & 10-19 ex. 41 ½ ft. off
S side of 10-19. (The number 20 is
penciled in and a written note is made asking, “what about lot 20”.)
1917 Unknown Owner 9-10-19 ex 41 ½ ft. off S. side
of 10-19-20. ( First mention of lot 20
not being a whole lot.)
1918 Unknown Owner 9-10-19 & 20 – ex. 4 ½ ft.
off of S. side of 10 & 19.
1919 Unknown Owner 8, 10, 19 – ex. 4 ½ ft. off of
S. side 10, 19. (No mention of 20.)
1920 Park lots 9, 10 less 4 ½ ft. of S. side of 10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1921 Park lots 9, 10 less 4 ½ ft. of S. side lot
10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1922 Park lots 9, 10 less 4 ½ ft. off S. side of
10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1923 Park lots 9 & 10 less 4 ½ ft. off S.
side of 10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1924 City Park – 9, 10 less 4 ½ ft. of S. side of 10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1925 City Park – 9, 20 ex. 4 ½ ft. of S. side of
10. (No mention of 19.) *****
1926 City Park 9, 10 ex. 4 ½ ft. of S. side of
10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1927 City Park 9, 10 ex. 4 ½ ft. of S. side of
10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1928 City Park 9, 10 ex. 4 ½ ft. of S. side of 10. (No mention of 19 & 20.)
1929 North Park – City Park 9, 10 ex. 4 ½ ft. of
S. side of 10. (No mention of 19 &
20.)
1930 North Park – City Park 9, 10 ex. 4 ½ ft. of
S. side of 10. (No mention of 19 &
20.)
1931 North Park – lot 9 & S. 48 ½’ of 10
& lot 20 & S. 48 ½’ of lot 19.
1932 North Park – Lot 9T S. 48 ½’ of 10 & lot
20 & S. 48 ½’ of lot 19. (Sec. or
Lot column indicates 9-10 19-20.)
1933-1954 North Park –
1955 (No Tax Role at Southwest
Wisconsin Room)
1956–1959 North Park B –
1960 (No Tax Rolee at Southwest
Wisconsin Room)
1961 City
of Platteville / North Park
1962-1969 City of Platteville
1970 -1975 (No Tax Roles at Southwest Wisconsin Room)
1976 City of Platteville
1977-1981 (No Tax Roles at Southwest Wisconsin
Room)
1982 City of Platteville – Lot 9; N 48 ½’ of Lot
10 N 48 ½’ of Lot 19; Lot 20
Tax rolls for Indian Park/Cemetery
for the years 1848, 1849, 1850, 1857, 1858, 1859 and 1860. The 1849 Tax Roll indicates “Graveyard”. The 1850 Tax Roll indicates, “land in NW ¼
not included”. This is the Presbyterian
burying ground. I was either unable to
locate or there was nothing in the tax rolls for the Presbyterian burying
ground for the tax roll years of 1851-1856.
The tax rolls for 1857, 1858, 1859 and 1860 show the lot numbers, but
does not show a taxed amount. The 1860
tax roll specifically says that the parcel is “exempt”.
SPECIAL NOTES OF INTEREST
1848 & 1849 Deeds – The trustees named on the 1848 Presbyterian Church deed are
Josiah Pickard, Isaac Bancroft, Edward Estabrook, Joel Potter and J. W.
Clark. Three of these individuals also
appear on the 1849 Congregational Church deed as trustees for the
Congregational Church…… Edward Estabrook, Joel Potter and J. W. Clarke. Thereby, these three individuals are now members
of the Congregational Church.
Note:
The E. B. Rice lien indicates that he was caring for the “Presbyterian
burying ground” from May 1894 until 1901.
Rice had purchased materials for repairs and fencing, and that he had
“cared for said premises”. Also of
special note…..the tax rolls show that Della Rice is the owner of Lot 8 of
Covell’s Addition, and E. B. Rice is listed as the person paying the tax. Lot 8 is right next door to the
cemetery……Lots 9, 10, 19 and 20 of Covell’s Addition. Therefore, it is very possible that E. B.
Rice cared for the cemetery. The 1900
census shows that E. B. Rice’s occupation was that of a “dairyman”. Therefore it is likely that Rice did do
fencing, repairs and other upkeep around the cemetery.
Note:
E. B Rice and his wife, Della show up on a 1910 census, and they are
living in Dubuque, Iowa. This census
shows that E. B. is working for a nursery.
Note:
Chapter 307 – Laws of 1917 – indicates lots 9, 10, 19 & 20 in
Covell’s Addition for many years in the past and now being in ruinous and
abandoned condition, and that no person or association had taken charge or care
of the cemetery for the past 20 years.
(This is not true, as E. B. Rice indicates in his lien that he had taken
care of the cemetery until 1901.
Also…..city records shows “clean up at the Old Cemetery”. It is unknown which old cemetery.)
Note:
Congregational Church records indicate that Rev. John Lewis was buried
at Hillside Cemetery. Lewis’ grave
marker is not at Hillside Cemetery……it is at Greenwood Cemetery. An early newspaper article from 1854 calls
the Presbyterian burying ground “Hill Grave Yard”. Is there confusion between the two cemeteries
Hillside and Hill??? (Why was the
cemetery called Hill Grave Yard? Is it
because the cemetery was once a Hill, or could it possibly be because there
were Indian mounds (hill(s)) in the cemetery???) City records indicate that John Lewis’
gravesite was not purchased until sometime in 1955. Was John Lewis actually buried in his own
church’s cemetery? Note the possible
confusion of Hill and Hillside cemeteries.
It’s easy to move grave markers, but not so easy to move the remains.
Note:
John Lewis’ wife, Electa Page Lewis dies, June 2, 1911, at the age of 94
in Baraboo. It was Electa’s wish to
return to Platteville and to be buried next to John. Electa’s funeral service was held at the
Congregational Church in Platteville.
Near John and Electa Lewis’ grave
markers at Greenwood Cemetery are grave markers for Harlan Page (Electa’s
brother), Fanny Lewis (John’s mother), Olive Lewis (John’s sister), and Henry McFall
(Olive’s husband – Olive’s husband was a doctor). Harlan Page was once an editor for a
Platteville newspaper. Harlan went on to
bigger and better things….he became one of the editors for the Wisconsin State
Journal. Harlan eventually had a stroke. Harlan lived in Baraboo at this time. Electa’s obituary says that she lived with
Harlan for a time. I think that it is
possible that she cared for Harlan after his stroke. Harlan’s wife was an accomplished opera
singer. She traveled the country
performing her talent. Harlan’s wife
might have been supporting the family by doing so.
I have asked myself several times why
Indian Park might have been called the Hill Graveyard in the 1850’s. This cemetery is not on a hill. In fact, the surrounding area can most
definitely be described as being flat.
Could their possibly have been someone by the last name of Hill that was
buried in the cemetery, or could it be possible there were Indian burial
mound(s) in the cemetery? As a child
growing up in Platteville, I recall many people saying that the “hill” in
Indian Park was, in fact, an Indian burial mound. I recall a teacher(s) in the 1960’s telling
the students that this was an Indian burial mound and that we needed to respect
it.
We have attempted to come up with
pictures that were taken in and around Indian Park, but have been unsuccessful. When talking with other local citizens, we
have been told they recall a wrought iron fence or some other type of fence that surrounded
the Indian burial mound. When this fence
was removed, it is not known.
It is a mystery to me how the
Congregational Church lost ownership of the cemetery. I have yet to locate any documentation transferring
the ownership of the cemetery from the Congregational Church to any other party
or individual.
