A carriage drawn by two horses stands in a flat, grassy landscape. The buildings of Pender, Nebraska fill the background. 1899. Photo courtesy of UNebraska-Lincoln Libraries.
“There seemed to be nothing to see; no fences, no creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was a road, I could not make it out in the faint starlight. There was nothing but land: not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made” (1)
Story IV:
On Reservation Land
I have never been to Nebraska. Never felt her sun upon my brow. Felt her winter in my bones. Neither have I been cradled in her bosom, nor gazed up into her big, beautiful, wide-open sky eyes. I have not strolled through her rolling, amber waves of grain or meditated on the colors of her seasons. Never inhaled the alluring aroma of one of her thunderstorms or summer morns. I was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, snuggled between the high reaching peaks that make up the Cascade Range, and I am alien to the geography and geology, the history, contained within Nebraska’s borders. Nevertheless, somehow, deep inside of me, I feel as if I have been there.
Europeans came across the Atlantic Ocean for many reasons. One of those reasons was a desire for land, for space. In stark contrast to Europe, which had long since been carved up and distributed – owned by a few and walled off from anyone else – this land across the ocean was seemingly empty, vast and open. The rolling prairie grasslands, teeming with miraculous life, were (according to the reality Europeans understood), just waiting to be claimed, settled and subdued.
Of course, long before an American nation came to call these prairies the Great Plains, the tribes of the First People were living with that land. And these First People understood that there was no such thing as ownership of this vast and miraculously life giving land.
Just over a decade before Nebraska was carved out of this prairie grassland and granted statehood, the American federal government established a reservation for the Umonhon (Omaha) people. It was with the treaty of 1854 that the tribe’s sacred hunting grounds, which bordered the Missouri River, were reduced to a 300,000 acre tract of land known as Blackbird (Wazhinga-sah-ba) County. In the years to come, the Ho-Chunk (Winnebago) tribe would also relocate to live on this land. The Winnebago Tribe of Nebraska, summarizes a portion of their history in their own words:
“The Winnebago first arrived in northwest Kentucky around 500 BC and by 500 AD they had entered the area that is now Wisconsin. In the 1620’s the Winnebago fought an inter-tribal war with the Potawatomis’. After this war, small pox and measles epidemics reduced the population of the Tribe from about 25,000 people to only about 150 people.
“The Winnebago signed their first treaty with the United States in 1816 and signed boundary and cession treaties in the 1820’s and 1830’s. These treaties resulted in the loss of most of the tribal land. The Tribe was moved from what is now northeast Iowa, to Minnesota, to South Dakota, and finally to their current location in Nebraska where the Winnebago Indian Reservation was established by treaties of 1865 and 1874. Following this displacement to the treeless plains of South Dakota, a nocturnal gravitation occurred during which many of the dispossessed Winnebago, under cover of darkness, traveled down the Missouri River to rejoin remnants of their tribe in Nebraska” (2)
In 1882, the American Congress passed legislation that set in motion the selling of 50,000 acres of reservation land and thus, on April 30, 1884, the village of Pender began to emerge.
Migrations of the Omahas and Cognate Tribes. January 2, 1884.
Seventy-six years after Pender’s inception, a woman by the name of Margaret E. McQuistan made the town her home and Rose Hill Cemetery her final resting place. Margaret, a centenarian, was a native Nebraskan. She was a longtime Thurston County Public School Teacher and spent many years teaching in Pender where she also served as librarian.
“Margaret started announcing the first day of spring to the school children soon after returning to teaching and continued to do so every year for 40 years, including this past spring. She would appear in the classrooms in a long dress, ringing her grandfather’s school bell and carrying a sprig of pussy willows.
“She wore a hat with a new bobble added each year, asking the students to guess what the new ornament was.
“Margaret loved fresh flowers, especially roses, and always had a fresh bouquet on the table. She printed booklets for family and friends at Christmas for years, including memories from the past and adding favorite poetry and stories.
“Margaret had a great interest in the history of Nebraska and most especially in the histories of Wayne and Thurston counties” (3)
Margaret continues Pender’s story in her own words, which were published in the book Pender, Nebraska: The First 100 Years, 1885-1985:
Copyright The Pender Centennial Book Committee (1984) Pender, Nebraska: The First 100 Years, 1885-1985.
“One Minute Before the Start,” Sep. 16th 1893, “Chilloco Reserve Sept. 16th 1893. Kansas and Oklahoma Territory.
By 1887 native populations were declining and the violently increasing white populations, brought in by the railroad, found that they needed more land. An article published in 2017 by Indian Country Today speaks of how this need was remedied and what came next:
“On February 8, 1887, U.S. President Grover Cleveland signed the Dawes Severalty Act (commonly referred to as the Dawes Act) into law, introducing private land ownership to American Indians. Arguably one of the most devastating pieces of legislature for Natives, the act slashed millions of acres from the existing land base, broke up tribes as communal units and threatened tribal sovereignty.
“They had to figure out what to do with the Indian problem—the problem being that they were Indian and were not sufficiently becoming Christian farmers…The goal was to open the reservations to settlement by non-Indians, who would, because of proximity, help the Indians become Christian farmers.
“It was a way the federal government could open lands to non-Indians.
“It ruled that Congress has plenary power to decide what’s best for the Indians, even if that’s taking the land…It ruled that you can unilaterally breach the treaty without recourse by the tribes to any legal authority” (4)
• • •
James Cleveland Benjamin lived on reservation land one mile to the east of the village of Pender. He was born in Harrison County, Iowa, in February of 1884, where his family had been deeply rooted for over a decade. He had come with his family, west, over the Missouri River, into northeastern Nebraska in 1887 or thereabouts. The Benjamin family lived on a farm, which surrounded a little house that was home to a growing family of nine. A favorite in his community, James was really “Jimmie.” And his parents were Walter Jackson and Mary Catherine Fouts Benjamin. Along with their other children, (William, Martha, Noel, Cora, Frederick and Robert), they made up a family that was well respected in their community. Walter and Mary are my great, great grandparents. Frederick, or Freddie, my great grandfather.
"This Benjamin farm just as I've always imagined it would look. Just one of those feelings." -dab
Cunningham’s House, Bordarc, Neb. 1892. Photo courtesy of UNebraska-Lincoln Libraries.
When I first learned of the death of little Jimmie there was no doubt that I would have to learn more. I was, and still am, absolutely addicted to, and ravenous about, uncovering any piece of information that helps me to better understand his death and the events that followed. How and why were all of the people of Pender so grossly entangled in creating the circumstances in which a little boy’s death tore apart a small prairie town?
I have spoken with many living members of my branch of the family (Freddie Benjamin) and no one admitted to ever having heard of this event. The people along our line of the family tree seem to have never mentioned, never passed along, the tale. Sense, I suppose, would dictate that a stunningly painful event would rarely be broadcast beyond a generation. Better to forget. Bury it down deep.
In my years of research I have located and had the pleasure of speaking with multiple descendants of the Walter and Mary Benjamin family who are not along my direct line. Befriended them all. Here, within their family lore, possible pieces of the story began to emerge. It all began to feel so much more personal to me. I was giddy with excitement at the revelations that surfaced. From conversations with descendants of siblings William, Martha and Noel I heard such things as “the Benjamin boys had a dog and the Indians wanted it. One day they shot at the boys to steal the dog. Jimmie ended up dead. The Indians stole the dog. Jimmie was killed by a bow and arrow,” and “Noel shot his brother and said some Indians did it. That’s all I know,” and still, again, there were those who had never heard of the event.
My newly met “cousins” inspired and propelled, even more, my desire to keep digging. To learn more about the times and circumstances within which these people were existing. My investigatory onslaught was in full motion. I began with digitized historical newspapers. Many can be found online and others can be accessed with help of lovely library and historical society staff from around the country. I am forever indebted to the Nebraska State Historical Society, the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, the Bennett Martin Public Library in Lincoln, and the House Memorial Library in Pender for their assistance. Thank you. Heartbreakingly, I quickly found that issues of The Logan Valley Times and The Pender Times prior to 1895 no longer existed. It is my understanding that many issues were lost in a fire. Oh, it makes me sick to my stomach to envision it. I can see the building burning. The words dissolving to ash and being wafted to the realms above. Can you imagine what was lost in those papers? I am sure that everything that I have sought in regard to this event was neatly reported in these lost papers. This event would have been discussed in depth in each publication. I had to force myself to quit thinking about it and move on.
Thank goodness for the invention of the telegraph and for the preservation of so many of the newspapers that surrounded the village of Pender. I would eventually find a mention of this event in a paper in nearly every state in the Union. Another big discovery came to me via the book Pender, Nebraska: The First 100 Years, 1885-1985. This book is rare, and non-interlibrary loanable, so access to its contents have been graciously granted to me by the directors at the libraries in Pender and Lincoln along with the Nebraska State Historical Society. I spoke with both county and district clerks at the courthouse in Pender and the clerk, and deputy clerk, of the District Court in the nearby city of Wayne. All of my questions were answered. One clerk, after digging through the basement to find my nineteenth century records when she couldn’t locate them upon her first search, proclaimed to me the she, “loves going into the basement and finding stuff on old trials.” The clerks in Wayne were also kind enough to share with me the name of a man from Wayne who is a private researcher. Speaking with him was a true pleasure and propelled me even further along my path. I spoke with the clerk at the Pender Village, a director at The Heritage Museum of Thurston County and accessed The University of Nebraska-Lincoln website with great success. It seems that, “(p)eople tried hard to forget the whole ugly thing,” (5), but my intuition continued to tell me that there was much to discover if I could be patient. That I could continue to learn more about the times and circumstances in which the people of a small, budding village all came together on that fateful Saturday, July the 27th, 1889.
As I said earlier, I have never been to Nebraska. I do see Pender in my dreams, but I am not sure from where those images are born. I searched and searched for a geographical and geological portrait of the place in which my family lived back in 1889. What did the land that my great grandparents chose and farmed look like? The land on which their children ran and played. Laughed. What was happening in the village of Pender when they lived there? I would find my glimpse into the past while reading through Reports of Agents in Nebraska, Report of Omaha and Winnebago Agency from August of 1890. A portrait began to emerge.
“This reservation is located on the eastern boundary, and embraces the entire county of Thurston, Nebr., except a portion of the reservation which has been sold and is now occupied by the white purchasers. It is bounded on the east by the Missouri River, 18 miles from the northern to southern limits, and extends west 30 miles, embracing one of the finest tracts of land in the State of Nebraska. The eastern portion is well timbered with the valuable varieties of hard wood native to this section. The central and western portions are made up of gently rolling prairies, wide and fertile valleys, well watered by the Logan, Omaha, and Blackbird Creeks and their branches, and possessed of the finest soil” (6)
Four Indian Children on the Winnebago Reservation. 1920 circa.
Used with permission, NSHS/History Nebraska.
Another glimpse came while reading the Nebraska State Gazatteer, Business Directory and Farmers List for 1890-91:
“Pender…on the line of the C. St. P.M & O. R R is 40 miles west of Sioux City. Its population is 470. Its hotels are the Pender House and the Lindell. The village is incorporated. The churches are the Methodist, Episcopal and the Presbyterian. The banks are the Logan Valley and the Bank of Pender, both in a position to meet all the demands of the community. Wm. Hoefner dealer in first-class farm machinery, carriages and wagons, is doing an extensive business. The Times and the Republican are well edited sheets. A good school, and several religious organizations are maintained. Wells, Fargo & Cos express, and the W. U. Telegraph are here presented. The business is young, as a rule, and full of the energy of northern Nebraska” (7)
Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Pender, Thurston County, Nebraska. Sanborn Map Company, Nov, 1893.
Logan River near Pender, Nebraska. 1910 circa.
Used with permission, NSHS/History Nebraska.
While reading through Reports of Agents in Nebraska, Report of Omaha and Winnebago Agency I found noteworthy the section on crime that each report offers. The report of September 1888 records that the Winnebago community is, “remarkably free from higher grades of crime; not even a serious case of assault in the past year or theft of anything of value except their own timber,” (8) and in 1889 the record states, “(w)ith so large a population it is remarkable there is so little crime. One case of stealing a yoke of cattle is the only certain case of magnitude…little crime has been committed during the year, and all have been of a minor nature” (9). This information sits heavy with me and I ponder the accusation of the violent and cold-blooded murder of little five year old Jimmie that was lodged against the Winnebago. How did we get to this point? What were the relations in the community? I continue to read through Reports of Agents in Nebraska, Report of Omaha and Winnebago Agency from the years 1888-1890 and it all comes to life.
1888 - “The Winnebagos have suffered on account of the suspension of allotment. While many…knew where their land was to be, others did not, and many disputed claims were unsettled” (10)
1889 - “That we are working upon an unsolved problem…can not be denied. We are traveling upon an unknown road. Even the prime movers…can not tell us where we are…The State has by statute organized this reservation into a county. This county is taxing the personal property of the Indians the same as all other citizens. The citizens around the reservation claim that as the Indians are made citizens this condition necessarily changes the whole reservation system, and that the laws relating to Indians and their intercourse with the whites are all repealed by implication.
“The Indian Office claims that these Indians can not lease their lands to white men but the law and means of enforcement are entirely inadequate. For instance, a man gets on the reservation with a herd of cattle. We are told to ‘drive him and his cattle off the reservation.’ Where to? The white men own the land on all sides, and to ‘drive off’ is to drive into some man’s farm and be liable for all damages and vexatious lawsuits. Again, when driven off the man drives back again as soon as we are out of sight. Where is the remedy?" (11)
1890 - “What was true last year is equally so now, except that year by year those who have occupied these lands become more and more aggressive and independent” (12)
My discovery continues through historic newspapers.
And on the day before Jimmie’s death, July 26th, at the Standing Rock Agency in Dakota, Governor Foster concluded a speech by expressing to the men before him, in what was described as a “friendly advisory talk,” (13) how he saw the reality of their plight. The country’s universal reality:
“Every intelligent Indian must see that sooner or later he must adopt the ways of the white man” (14)
• • •
I can never know exactly what each of my ancestors did or said during the immediate hours following the tragic shooting of little Jimmie. How they felt.
As a blood-relative to each of the family members about whom I write, I have to believe that some of what I dream could be a small part of what actually happened. Of how they actually felt. That when I research this story and have thoughts involving words that I have not read, that these thoughts are not fiction. After all, there is communication and transference between the generations and, in the words of Jonathan Davis:
“The reason why it’s dangerous for us to believe otherwise is that it has lead to entire generations of people believing that their choices concerning their own body and the environment affecting it have no detrimental effect on the genes of future generations. In short, it has the potential to see us devolve, simply out of ignorance.” (15)
And, as Francesca Mason Boring tells us, “(i)n your heart, you already know that most of the deep communication in your own walk through life has not been entirely contained in words.” (16) I believe that equal weight must be given to how we feel, how we intuit, what we intuit. There is a place for science and, equally, a place for magic. The unquantifiable. The wonder of transgenerational connectedness. I imagine and continue to remember…
On the right of the image a cylindrical metal water tower stands beside a two-story wooden building with a belfry. The date 1886 is on the front of the building.
Fire department, water works, etc. Pender, Nebraska. 1899. Photo courtesy of UNebraska-Lincoln Libraries.
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