1889 HISTORY OF LINCOLN NEBRASKA

CHAPTER XVI

STATE INSTITUTIONS -- THE PENITENTIARY -- HOSPITAL FOR THE INSANE -- HOME FOR THE FRIENDLESS -- THE PENITENTIARY REVOLT -- WARDEN NOBES'S STORY OF THAT OCCURRENCE -- SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL ACTORS -- NEW INCIDENTS OF THE REVOLT -- THE EXPLOSION AT THE ASYLUM

(213) At the time the Commissioners had in consideration the selection of a site for the location of the capital, Messrs. W. T. Donovan, of Lancaster, Nebraska, and Hon. G. H. Hilton, of Cincinnati, O., as an inducement to the Commissioners to select the present site, offered to donate to the State forty acres of land, situated about two and one-half miles south of the town of Lancaster, upon the express condition that said land should be reserved by the Commissioners, and used by the State as the site of the proposed penitentiary. Upon the final decision locating the seat of government, this grant was accepted and the reservation and location made accordingly, it being understood that in case the State Penitentiary should not be erected upon this site, the same should revert to Mr. Hilton, in whom the legal title was then vested. This explains why the penitentiary is located in a hollow instead of being on the hill either this side or beyond.

Among the subjects for legislation named by the Governor to be submitted to a special session of the Legislature, called to meet in Lincoln in February, 1870, was that of erecting a State Penitentiary, and providing for the care and custody of State prisoners. Accordingly an act to provide for both these objects was passed at that session, and received the approval of the Governor on the 4th day of March, 1870. The act provided for the election of three State Prison Inspectors, who were to take charge of the sale of lands for the raising of the necessary funds, and also of the erection of the buildings. A temporary building was immediately erected on the ground to accommodate the present necessities, which did duty until the new building was completed, and which now stands within the prison walls.

The three Inspectors, Messrs. W. W. Wilson, W. W. Abbey, and F. Templin, set to work immediately upon their selection. (214) W. H. B. Stout, then of Washington county, Nebraska, and J. M. Jamison, of Des Moines, la., were granted the contract for $312,000. The work, as far as the contract extended, was completed in the fall of 1876, but since then numerous additions have been made to the capacity of the institution. At the opening of the penitentiary the number of prisoners was 18, but at present nearly 400 boarders are accommodated.

Henry C. Campbell was the first warden, appointed and he was succeeded by William Woodhurst, in 1873, during whose wardenship occurred the famous "revolt" among the prisoners, on January 11, 1875.

About four o'clock in the afternoon of that day, Deputy Warden C. J. Nobes stood with his hand upon the latch of the door that gave admission to the old stable which was then used as a shop for the convict stone-cutters. The window panes near by were covered with frost. Had they been clear, so that he might have seen into the shop, or had he seen the eyes that peered out at him through the little holes that had been scraped through the frost, he would not have entered. But no suspicion of anything wrong had entered his mind, and he opened the door quickly and stepped in. If his pulse did not beat a trifle quicker as he did so, his must have been an extraordinarily imperturbable nature. As he closed the door there stepped quickly from behind it twelve men whom he recognized by a hasty and comprehensive glance as the most desperate convicts in the prison. Wm. McWaters, who was afterward killed by a guard while attempting to incite a revolt, stood immediately in front of Mr. Nobes, with the muzzle of a revolver which he had taken from the guard almost touching the warden's face. Quin Bohanan, afterward a murderer, stood near by with a pick raised over the warden's head. Grouped around them, armed with stone-hammers, which their vengeful and determined faces showed they would not hesitate to use, were Warrel, McKenna, Thompson, Gerry, Elder, and five others, equally desperate but not as well known as these leaders.

A glance was sufficient to reveal everything to the warden. A conspiracy to take the prison had been formed, the guards in the shop had been overpowered and disarmed, and the conspirators had lain in wait for the warden. Their plan had worked admirably, and when Mr. Nobes was invited to surrender, he replied, "All right boys; what do you want?"

Nobes had always conveyed the impression that he did not carry a "grin," and his heart gave a throb of hope at McWaters's remark. "I began to work my hand around to my hip pocket, kind of careless like," he says when he tells of the experience, "but Bohanan soon discovered what I was doing, and catching my hand, with the remark, 'I'll take care of that,' tool, my revolver from my pocket."

"No, I won't do it," replied Nobes. "You can undress me if you want to, but I won't do it myself:"

The conspirators let him have his own way about it, and soon had him stripped to his underclothes. It was suggested that they put a striped suit on him, but he told them they could not do that, and they contented themselves with dressing him in a teamster's clothes. It was then suggested that they shave him, but he declared that he would not submit to it. It was finally put to a vote, and Elder and Jennings voted to shave him, while the other ten voted against it. The barber, who had been brought in, was accordingly not called upon to exercise his art upon the warden.

The convicts sat their prisoner in a chair, tying his hands behind it, and tying the chair to a post. The guard was disposed of in the same way at the other end of the shop.

McWaters then arrayed himself in the warden's clothes, and blacked the sides of his face with the stove poker, so as to represent the warden's whiskers. Taking Nobes's heavy cane, McWaters formed seven of the men in line and marched them across the yard to the cell house and warden's quarters. The guards on the walls saw the moving group, but as they marched in the usual manner, each with his right hand on the shoulder of the man in front, and as McWaters was dressed in the deputy's suit and carried his cane, nothing was suspected.

The convicts found the doors open, and had no difficulty in making Warden Woodhurst and the guards prisoners. They then went to the armory, sending one of their number to Nobes for the key to the door. He pointed out the key to the dispensary, and declared that it was the key to the armory, knowing that if they had to force the armory door open they would be likely to alarm the guards on the (216) walls, whom, of course, they had had no opportunity of capturing. They did have to batter down the door, but the guards had in the meantime been alarmed in quite another manner.

Four men had been left to watch the deputy warden, the guard Cochran, and Mr. C. B. Fox, who were in the stone shop. Besides the mutineers, there were about twenty other convicts in the shop, who took no part in the revolt, but kept on working. When McWaters and his seven fellow-conspirators had gone, Nobes called a convict named Johnson to him and asked him to untie him. The four conspirators left to guard him told Johnson they would kill him if he did. "You are not afraid of these fellows," said Nobes; "you untie me and I'll protect you." Johnson was a fellow of a good deal of nerve, but he looked at the four desperate men before him, calculated on his chances with McWaters and his seven comrades, and said that he believed he would not take sides in the trouble either way.

It has always been supposed that Mr. Nobes succeeded in loosening his bonds himself; and that statement has been made in every account of the revolt. The truth is that he was released by one of the mutineers who was left to guard him. This man's name was Warrell. Observing that the deputy was struggling to free himself, Warrell came back to him with his hammer in hand and said: "You had better keep quiet, or I'll have to tap you with this hammer."

"You wouldn't hit anybody," replied Nobes. "A man with only four years to serve here is a fool to go into a scheme like this. You untie me and I 'll get you out of here."

"They needn't know it at all," said Nobes, "and if you let me loose, McWaters and his gang will not get back here. You come down here and swing your hammer over my head and swear you'll kill me, and then get down behind the chair and untie the straps, while pretending to tighten them. I tell you I will get you out of here if you'll do it."

The noise made by the hammers of the men who were working enabled the convict and the imprisoned deputy to carry on this conversation without being overheard. Warrell followed the deputy's directions, and after threatening to brain him with the hammer, got down behind him, and while apparently tightening his bonds, loosened them. The other convicts were in front of the deputy, and could not see what Warrell was doing. But the deputy's feet were also tied, (217) and there was no way of loosening them without immediate detection. Fortunately, as Warrell rose and moved away, two shots were fired at the cell-house. Two of the mutineers went to the window, and, scratching away the frost, pressed their faces close to the window. Another one, Edwards, who stood in the door, was also watching the cell-house. All of them had forgotten their prisoner for the moment. It was a valuable moment, and Nobes made the most of it. His hands were free, and he soon succeeded in untying his feet. Lying near him was a hoe. As he sprang up and seized this, Edwards, who stood in the door, saw him and gave the alarm; but it was too late. The deputy swung the hoe into the air and knocking Edwards, crowbar and all, over a pile of stone, escaped from the shop and ran across the yard to the stable. Getting out of range of the convicts' guns, he called to a guard to throw him a six-shooter, and taking this in hand, he went back to the stone shop. Arrived here, he made Thompson, one of the mutineers, untie the guard, and the two got outside the walls.

There was a board wall at the southwest corner of the yard, and the plan of the mutineers was to dress themselves in citizens' clothes, procured from the warden and guards, secure arms from the armory, kill the guard at the southwest turret, and escape at nightfall. The two shots which attracted the attention of the conspirators left to guard the deputy, and which gave him the opportunity to escape, were fired at the guard in this turret. His name was Julius Grosjean. The first shot cut his vest and the second wounded him slightly in the leg.

It took the deputy warden but a short time, when he had regained his liberty, to get the guards together and dispose of them to the best advantage. They were stationed at knot-holes and other improvised port-holes where they could command the yard, and were instructed to shoot the first man who came into the yard with a gun. Innings, one of the mutineers, appeared at the kitchen window with a gun, and the deputy himself drew a bead on him and fired. The man disappeared. After the surrender Nobes learned that he had gone up stairs and surrendered to the warden. A ballet-hole in the casement and a scratch on Innings's neck gave evidence of the accuracy of the deputy's aim.

It was but a short time after the revolt was discovered by the guards on the walls until the report had reached the city, and citizens with (218) arms began to arrive. The Governor was also promptly notified, and secured an almost immediate order for the movement of the 23d U. S. infantry from Omaha to the scene of the revolt. "The citizens had nerve enough," says Mr. Nobes, "but they were not used to discipline and you could not count on them. You might station a man at a certain point and in five minutes find that he had gone somewhere else. I tell you I felt a good deal better when I heard the measured tramp of the regulars, and the orders of the officers which I knew would be obeyed to the letter."

The company of regulars under Major Randall arrived about one o'clock in the morning, and at once proceeded to throw a line of guards about the walls. The warden and his wife, and two guards, in the meantime, were the prisoners of the mutineers. The latter made one or two experiments in the way of going into the yard, but a fusilade from the guards convinced them that such experiments were far from safe. They discussed many plans during the night, which were overheard by the imprisoned guards and the warden and his wife. One plan was to go out to the gates with the imprisoned guards in front of them, and another was to secure still more certain immunity from being shot by forcing Mrs. Woodhurst out ahead of them. These plans were abandoned, however, as impracticable, and they gradually lost their courage and hope as the slow hours of the night wore away.

About six o'clock in the morning Mrs. Woodhurst appeared at the southwest window of the chapel, much to the relief of her husband and sons, (who were separated from her during the eventful night,) as well as her many friends among the citizens before the walls. She stated that she thought the mutineers could be persuaded to surrender to her. The troops were making preparations to enter the yard and storm the building occupied by the mutineers, but before they started the convicts agreed to surrender to Mrs. Woodhurst, stipulating only that they should receive no excessive punishment.

The conduct of Mrs. Woodhurst through all that trying experience is spoken of with the highest praise. When she was allowed by the convicts to go to her own room and stay there, she made her way to another room whence she was able to alarm the guards on the walls, and thus prevent them from coming to the house, where they would have been captured. Her behavior was marked by the utmost intrepidity and presence of mind throughout the entire night. At one (219) time she secured the arms of the mutineers, hid them in her wardrobe, and concealed their ammunition in a bucket of water. She gave them back their arms, however, when they began to batter down the door of the wardrobe where she had concealed them.

Deputy warden Nobes kept the promise which he made to Warrell, the convict who untied him when he was a prisoner in the stone shop. On April 5, 1875, Governor Garber granted Warrell a full pardon, and the deputy had the pleasure of reciprocating the favor done him at a time when he needed it desperately, by opening the prison gates and letting the convict who had saved him step cut into the world a free man.

McWaters was a restless, irrepressible character, and, not discouraged by the failure of this revolt, set immediately to work planning another. The plan for this one was discovered through the dropping of a note, which one of the conspirators had written to another. The attempt was to be made on the 26th day of May. Kolkow, the keeper of the wash-house, was to be killed. The deputy- warden was then to be disposed of, and a rush for liberty made. When the 26th of May came the convicts were kept in the main building all afternoon. The next day they were marched out, but the guards were under special instructions to keep a close lookout, and to shoot any convict who made any suspicious demonstration. A short time after the convicts had gone to work, John Geary was granted leave to go to the privy. Just as he was returning McWaters held up his hand, and was given permission to go. He met Geary just under the guard's cage, and touching him, said something. The guard did not hear what it was, but the fact that anything was said was warning that something was wrong, and he was at once upon the alert. When McWaters stooped and picked up a stone and made a motion to throw it at the guard, the latter fired. McWaters stood upright a moment, without making any outcry, and then walked forward about twenty feet, where he was caught by Cochran, the overseer. The blood was gushing from the carotid artery, and within a few seconds from the time he staggered into the overseer's arms, he died. The ball from Hugh Blaney's gun had passed through McWaters's left jaw, entered the neck, severed the carotid artery, passed down through his body, and came out just above the left kidney.

After firing upon McWaters, the guard immediately re-cocked his (220) gun, and ordered Geary back to work. He then gave the alarm by ringing the bell in the yard, and those in the warden's and deputy's rooms. The alarm brought out the warden and deputy, and after the convicts had been allowed to work long enough for the excitement to subside somewhat, they were marched into the main building and an extra guard set over them.

McWaters was not the only one of the mutineers who was a figure in a subsequent tragedy. Quin Bohanan's term expired October 13, 1877. On the 19th of February, 1882, in a quarrel with James Cook, at Waverly, over the spelling of the word "pedlar," he killed Cook. He was tried and sentenced to the penitentiary for life, but after serving a short part of his time, he succeeded in getting a new trial. The result was far from being what he expected, for the jury brought in a verdict of murder in the first degree, and he was sentenced to be hanged.

He was confined in the Otoe county jail, awaiting some further judicial proceedings, his case having been appealed to the United States Supreme Court; but on the 22d day of June, 1887, he escaped, and has since succeeded in eluding the officers, spurred on as they are by a heavy reward.

Bohanan was of that peculiar temperament that either could not appreciate disgrace and the apparent hopelessness of his situation, or, appreciating them, could not be depressed by them. He seemed never to allow the idea of escape to leave his mind. An incident occurred during his second trial which Mr. Nobes never made public, because Bohanan's attorneys feared it might prejudice his case. When Nobes took Bohanan into the buggy to bring him to the city for trial, he fastened his handcuff's to an iron in the buggy seat. When about half way to town he suddenly discovered that Bohanan had taken off the nut which held the iron, and was almost free. As the team was a very spirited one, the situation was somewhat critical. Looking Bohanan sternly in the eye, he ordered him to put the nut back, which he did.

"Now," said Nobes, "if you make the slightest move toward getting away, I 'll kill you."

"For God's sake, Mr. Nobes, don't shoot me!" exclaimed Bohanan, who saw that Nobes was a good deal agitated, and evidently feared that he might conclude to act as executioner without further delay.

(221) "0h, I won't shoot you," replied the deputy; "I will just cut your heart out."

Elder, who was also one of the mutineers, went to Kansas City after his term expired. "I was sitting in a hotel at Kansas City one day," says Mr. Nobes, "when somebody tapped me on the shoulder and spoke to me. I looked up, and before me stood Elder, arrayed in the height of fashion and sporting a pair of eye-glasses and a shiny silk hat. He asked me if I had been to breakfast. I told him that I had, and he said he would see me after he had breakfasted. When he came out he asked me to take a walk with him. He took me down town to a good office building, and following him up stairs, I found myself in an elegantly-furnished room, the windows of which proclaimed that it belonged to 'Dr. Elder.' He was working a patent medicine fake, and was making plenty of money and flying high. He asked me not to give him away, and as I had no particular reason for doing so, I left him to practice his improved style of villainy undisturbed."

In March, 1875, L. F. Wyman was made warden, and he served until October, 1877, when he was succeeded by Henry C. Dawson, who acted in that capacity until September 7, 1880.

C. J. Nobes was the next warden, and under his management, which continued for six and one-half years, affairs moved very smoothly; the discipline of the prison was greatly improved and its sanitary condition carefully looked after.

Mr. Nobes was succeeded in 1887 by R. W. Hyers, who held the office until January 1, 1889, when he resigned, his place being filled by the appointment of Dan Hopkins, who is the present warden. Mr. Hopkins seems to be especially fitted for the place he holds, as is evidenced by the continued good order prevalent at the penitentiary and by the respect with which he is treated and the esteem in which he is held by the prisoners. Mr. Hopkins is a man of just a little over forty-three years of age, having been born August 30, 1846, in Rushford, Allegheny county, N.Y. His parents both came from Vermont. Mr. Hopkins's early life was passed quietly, without special incident worthy of note. He lived in Allegheny county until he was twelve years old, when his parents moved to Cattaraugus county, (222) N.Y., where he finally resided until 1871, or until Dan, as he is familiarly called, was twenty-five. On September 23, 1863, Mr. Hopkins being then under the age required, enlisted in the service of his country, to help fight her battles and throttle the treason that seemed for a time to have a death grip on the nation's throat. He enlisted in the Ninth New York Cavalry, Col. Nicholls commanding. This regiment was assigned to duty in the Shenandoah valley, in the Second Brigade of the Cavalry Corps of the First Division, under command of Gen. Merritt. Gen. Deven was in command of the division, the officer of Company 1, Hopkins's company, being Capt. Putnam. Mr. Hopkins prides himself upon the fact that he is one of the very few remaining high privates who now survive the years and ravages of disease. When he went into the service he weighed only ninety pounds, and, of course, being only seventeen, had to stretch the truth one year to be allowed to enlist; but like a good many other boys whose patriotism rose with danger, this little prevarication was counted as nothing. What he wanted was to get a shot at a traitor, and the end justified the means.

Mr. Hopkins's battle experiences are those of every soldier who fought and skirmished with the enemy up and down the beautiful Shenandoah valley from 1863 to 1865. If these experiences were rightly written they would make a volume of rare interest -- war, tragedy, love, adventure, defeat, and victory, all mixed together in one grand plot. He was, of course, in Sheridan's command, but was not permitted to be present at Lee's surrender, as his horse had been condemned and he, together with hundreds of others, had been ordered back to Remount camp, below Harper's Ferry, as a guard for prisoners taken during the campaign, and to get a fresh mount. After the remount he went back to the valley, where his division did patrol duty to the end of the war. He was mustered out of the service at Winchester, on June 1, 1865, having staid in the service without a wound or accident until the close of the war.

Returning home at the close of the war, he engaged in farming and stock buying until March 16, 1871, when he married, and with his bride started for the West. Mrs. Hopkins's maiden name was Morrill -- Miss Jennie Morrill -- closely connected with the family of Senator Morrill, of Vermont, on her father's side, and on her mother's side with that of Secretary Seward. Mr. Hopkins proceeded directly (223) to Lone Tree, now Central City, where he took a homestead six miles southwest of the village, perfecting his homestead right in the usual manner. In August, 1873, during the trying grasshopper times, he temporarily abandoned farming, (as did many Nebraska farmers, of necessity,) and went to Wyoming in the employ of the Union Pacific railway. He remained in the employ of this company, holding a responsible position, until December, 1875, when, with his family, he went back to New York, where he remained only a year; but that was long enough to give him a disastrous experience in the oil country. In December, 1876, he came back to Nebraska, a wiser if not a sadder man. He went on his farm, but only stayed there a short time, moving soon into Central City, where he was appointed Deputy Sheriff of Merrick county in 1877, which place he held for two years. In 1879 he was elected Sheriff, and again, in 1881, was chosen by the people for the same position. In 1883, on retiring from office, he engaged in the implement business in Central City, and continued that two years. But at the end of that time he accepted a flattering offer from the Great Northwestern Stage Company, and in February, 1886, went to Denver, the company's headquarters, as Superintendent of that company's lines in Wyoming and Colorado, spending a considerable portion of his time traveling over the routes and inspecting the lines.

Until March 15, 1887, Mr. Hopkins remained with this company, when he resigned on information received of his appointment by Governor Thayer as deputy warden. With his family he arrived in Lincoln April 1, 1887, and immediately entered upon the discharge of his duties. This place he filled in a most satisfactory manner until the resignation of Warden Hyers, on January 1,1889, when Mr. Hopkins assumed the duties of warden, on appointment of Gov. Thayer. Mr. Hopkins has dispensed with the office of deputy warden, V. U. Heiner acting as principal keeper. Elder P. M. Howe is the chaplain.

The position of warden in the Nebraska penitentiary is a difficult one to fill. In fact, the duties of warden of any prison require great care, judgment, a knowledge of human nature, firmness, and yet kindness. It is a trying place, but Mr. Hopkins has shown himself possessed of these qualifications in a large degree, and the result is seen in the smoothness with which affairs within the walls move.

Mr. Hopkins's family consists of a wife and one daughter, Miss Inez, now in her sixteenth year.

By the act providing for the sale of the unsold lots and blocks in (224) Lincoln, and the erection of the State University, the Commissioners were directed to locate, on or near the site of said town, a site for a State Lunatic Asylum, and from the proceeds of such sales the sum of $50,000 was appropriated and directed to be expended, under the supervision of the Commissioners, in the erection, upon such plan as they should adopt, of the necessary building. Accordingly, a site containing about 160 acres, and situated about two miles southwest of the site of the old town of Lancaster, was set apart for that purpose; and after having issued the notices required by law, and having adopted the plan of Prof. D. Winchell, an architect from Chicago, the contract for the construction of the building was let, on the 15th day of August, 1869, to Joseph Ward, also formerly of Chicago, who stipulated for its completion on or before the first day of December, 1870, the contract price for the work being $128,000. On December 22, 1870, the asylum was opened for the reception of patients. A little while before this it was set on fire, near the roof, but the flames were extinguished before much damage was done. Dr. Larsh, of Nebraska City, was appointed the first Superintendent, and had twenty-six patients when he took charge. On the night of April 18, 1871, the building was burned to the ground. Whether set on fire, or ignited by a defective flue, has not been determined. Two or three of the insane persons at the time in the building were burned to death. The city of Lincoln made temporary arrangements to accommodate the patients thus rendered homeless, advancing $4,500 for that purpose. This sum was afterward repaid by the State.

The burned asylum building had been insured for $96,000. The insurance companies took their option and rebuilt the building, the contract price being $71,999.98. William H. Foster, of Des Moines, Iowa, was the architect of the second building, and R. D. Silvers the contractor for the erection of the main building and one wing. The contract called for a facing of limestone ashlar, rough finish, but this was changed later on to Carroll county (Missouri) sandstone, with rubble-work finish and rustic joints. It was finished on October 2, 1872.

The building was crowded as soon as completed, and the Legislature of 1875 appropriated $25,000 for an additional wing, which was at once erected, under the supervision of the trustees. Three more wings have been added since that time, which, with kitchen, boiler-house, and other improvements, have cost in the aggregate $196,618, (225) and the plant had cost, on January 1, 1889, as estimated by the Secretary of State, the sum of $272,413. The asylum is credited with additional property valued at $70,668.05.

On February 5, 1889, one of the boilers in the boiler-house of the asylum exploded, killing one engineer and two patients, and wrecking the boiler-house. The Legislature was then in session, and an investigation indicated incompetency in the engineers. An appropriation was made at once for rebuilding the boiler-house, and the work has been completed.

The present number of patients is nearly 400, and the average weekly expense of their maintenance was $4.66 per capita during 1887 and the first eleven months of 1888.

The institution is now under the management of Superintendent W. M. Knapp, M. D., with Dr. J. T. Hay as first and Dr. Miss Helen B. Odelson as second assistant physician. Mr. J. Dan. Lauer is the steward, to whose management is due much of the financial success of the institution, and Mrs. Mary Magoon, the matron.

The State Legislature, by an act of February 28, 1881, established a Home for the Friendless, to be controlled by the Board of Lands and Buildings, at or near the town making the largest donation for the Home. Lincoln contributed $2,050, and secured the institution, and the State expended the $5,000 appropriation in building, and grounds. The Legislature of 1883 appropriated $2,000, that of 1885 $10,000, and the session of 1887 $11,895.30, making the cost of the plant, to date, $28,895.30. The Home has other property valued at $5,988.80.

The Home is supported in part by benevolent contributions from generous people, and is managed by the Society for the Home for the Friendless, a band of women organized about fifteen years ago, and since incorporated under the laws of the State and subject to a general control of the State Board of Lands and Buildings. This is one of the most commendable charities in the State, and the ladies at its head deserve the highest praise for their practical work in the cause of humanity.

The Home now maintains about 100 children, some of them infants but a few days old. Good homes with families are found for these children as fast as possible. The Home is now under the immediate management of Miss. A. B. Slaughter, Superintendent; Miss Alice Huff; Physician; and Mrs. Elizabeth Moore, Matron.

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