CHAPTER 6.
Courts and crimes of Dixon county in 1870 - Indians brought before the district court for the murder of Munson in Wayne county - The court of judge Lynch and the trial and conviction of Matt Miller for the murder of Mr. Dunn - Mysterious fate of James Bigley.
For several years after the county was organized, people were too busy and law abiding to have many lawsuits. Once a year a term of district court would be held but there were few cases to try, disputes having generally been settled by friendly arbitration. About the only use of court week was to give to grand and petit jurors, witnesses, sheriff and spectators an opportunity to rest from their labors, renew old acquaintances and enjoy a sociable day or two. Discussions as to the crops, the increase of improvements and population and the chances of candidates for county office were held more of intrest than the consideration of any civil or criminal docket.
About the only important criminal case ever before the district court of the county up to 1870 was that of five Winnebagos who who had been arrested for murder. The crime was not comitted in Dixon county, but in Wayne, then attached to Dixon for judicial purposes. From the evidence it appeared that one C.S. Munson in the early part of the summer of 1870, while at work on his claim near Plum Creek, Wayne county, was attacked, killed and scalped by the five young indians in question. They killed him and took his scalp, not especially on account of malice but because they wished to obtain a "brave" reputation with the tribe. They were caught on the Winnebago reservation soon after, and in August, Sheriff Dewitt brought them to Ponca for trial.
On the day court was held, two hundred Winnebagos arrived in town to protect the intrest of their five arrested brethren, and whether or not Judge Crounse deemed it unhealthy to proceed with the trial he transfered the case to Washington county. They were accordingly taken there by sheriff. On the route he was waylaid twice by armed bands of several hundred Winnebagos who insisted on the release of the prisoners, but his firmness kept them at bay. It was only fear of future consequences that saved him on that occasion of being scalped himself. However, he sucessfully stood them off and went through all right. The prisoners were afterwards tried at Blair and convicted and sent to the penitentiary. The evidence that convicted them was a scalp which was found in one of their tepees and which was identified as Munson's by a peculiar scar or mark. One of the prisoners was afterwards reprieved and the others died in prison.
But while a case of murder had never been tried before the district court of Dixon county, there was in 1870 a trial of that kind in the court of Judge Lynch.
In July of that year the county was excited by a tragedy within its borders, and for a short time the Arcadian pursuits of peace were laid aside and the citizens became stern and relentless judges.
An account of the murder and of the swift and effectual manner in which justice was administered will be interesting to remember. This prompt method of settling with the criminal, in which no delays, new trials nor appeals were allowed to defeat the ends of justice, did more thereafter to make wrongdoers avoid the county than a whole bench of big wigged judges and lawyers could do. For several years afterwards, if a man wanted to commit murder or steal a horse, he was careful to see that it was done outside Dixon county lines.
On the 1st day of July, 1870, an old gentleman named Dunn started from his home in Clinton, Iowa, on a visit to Northern Nebraska. Mr. Dunn was a farmer and not very well off financially, and his desire to provide a home for his family induced him to make a journey to Nebraska, designing to purchase a farm if the country suited him.
Mr. Dunn, by those who knew him in Iowa, is said to have been an honest and exemplary man and respected in the community where he lived. When he left Clifton, he told his wife that he would be absent about a month. He wished, he said, to see Dixon county, of which he had heard favorable reports, and if the land was as good and cheap as represented, he would buy a farm and in a month's time would be back after his family. Thus with cheerful anticipations he set out on his journey.
Mr. Dunn's western trip, until he reached Sioux City, was by railroad. There he found further progress would have to be made on foot or by stage. In those days there was not, as now, a railroad between Sioux City and Ponca and the best a traveler could do was to take the stagewhich made two trips per week. If the traveler did not in his movement hit the starting time of the stage, he would either have to remain in Sioux City until its next trip, three days, or provide some other means of conveyance. When Mr. Dunn arrived in Sioux City he learned that the up-country stage had left the morning before.
In as costly a stopping place as Sioux City was, the thought of staying there two or three days was discouraging to him. He would have immediately set out on foot, but hesitated thus entering a sparsely settled country which he was wholly unacquainted with. Fortunately, as it seemed to him, he met a young man who said he lived in Dixon county and was expecting to go there the next day. He said he would go on foot, and he offered if Mr. Dunn desired, to conduct him to Ponca.
Mr. Dunn gladly accepted the friendly offer, and on the next day, July 3, the two crossed the river to Covington and started on their walk toward Ponca, twenty-five miles distant. The companion of Mr. Dunn was a young man about twenty-two years of age. In size he was yet a mere boy, having a slight form and a thin, beardless face which, however, bore the marks of dissipation. He said his name was Matt Miller.
They left Covington before noon and at three o'clock had progressed on their trip as far as the little town of Jackson. Here they rested a short time, and then again started on their road. As they journeyed along Mr. Dunn appeared much pleased with the country which he then saw for the first time. In his unsuspecting honesty he did not hesitate to tell his youthful companion that the object of his visit was to buy a home for himself and family, and he made many inquiries as to the quality of land, the price per acre, the climate, society, schools and churches. Thus in friendly inquiries and conversation the tedium of their walk was worn away.
Half an hour before sundown they came to a little stream, Badger Creek, which crossed their road about three miles from Ponca. On the bank of this rivulet the weary travelers saw with pleasure a cool and inviting thicket of timber, and entering its refreshing shade they sat down to rest a few moments before completing the remainder of their journey.
From the timber, so pleasant and inviting to a man worn by a twenty mile tramp over hot and dusty roads, scarcely a a sign of life was visible on all surrounding landscape; not a cultivated field could be seen nor habitation excepting one homesteader's cabin on a distant hill.
The road which Mr. Dunn and young Miller had followed was not in those days much traveled. To the homesteader's family in their cabin on the hill it was an event worthy of notice and mention, when they saw the accustomed solitude disturbed by passing travelers. On this occasion the family saw the two footmen, (one of whom they reconized as a young man whom they had seen in Ponca) long before they had reached the thicket of timber. They saw them plod wearily along and when they reached the timber, saw them enter. In half an hour afterwards and just as the sun was going down, they saw the young man, Matt Miller come out. The other man was not with him. Miller pursued his way towards Ponca.
Twenty-five years ago, Ponca was not as large a town as at present nor was it blessed with its present bustle and business. Two or three stores provided for the town and county, a single tavern fed and bedded the few who came in from abroad and a single saloon invited the thirsty to enter. Of these several institutions, it is probable the saloon did the greatest business, It was kept by a man, whose son, Mat Miller, had become very reckless and dissipated. He often absented himself from home and devoted his time to the lowest and vilest haunts of Sioux City. During these expeditions he had fallen under the influence of one of the abandoned sirens of that city. He was infatuated with her, and she by her seductive wiles not only led him far away from honor, but took what money he could beg from his father or steal from others. On his last visit to his charmer, she had warned him that if he expected farther favors and friendship from her he must bring her more money, a big pile, in fact, or else, to use the exprssive language of the bagnio, she would "shake him."
On the evening of the day when Mr. Dunn and Mat Miller journeyed on foot towards Ponca, old man Miller, the saloon keeper, was roused from the contemplation of his row of bottles and the drinkable treasures they contained by the arrival of his son. "Hello Mat" and "Hello dad" were all the salutations which, in no very gracious manner, passed between the pair. Mat went to the bar and helped himself to some of his father's strongest poison, and then turning to the old man told him that he was going away "for good," and if he had any money to give him before he left, he wanted it for he was going the very next day. His father answered Mat by a surly refusal to give him money then or ever. "I don't care," retoted Mat, "I have more money than you have, and I could buy and sell you twice over." So saying he drew from his pocket a large roll of bills and exultingly displayed them before the old man's eyes. "There is what I've got since I've been gone" continued Mat, "and I can do it agian, and I don't ask any odds of such an old fool as you are." "How you earned it," replied his father, "I don't know, but I should think in the butcher business, for your bills are all blood and so are your shirt sleeves.
A thirsty customer now entering the saloon for his evening bitters, put an end to this interesting conversation between father and son. But though the conversation ended, what had been said and the usual spectacle of a roll of bills in the hands of Mat Miller had been fastened upon the memory of the only spectator of the scene, old Dan Foley, an honest but chronically befuddled toper, who, half drunk, but not too drunk to see and hear, reclined on a bench in the corner. As the customer entered, Mat hastened to put the money out of sight, and soon after left the saloon. The next day was the 4th of July and was duly kept and honored at Ponca by the people of that town and vicinity.
Matt did not go away that day, as he had declared he would, but remained, and no doubt, as far as his blood stained conscience would permit, participated in the enjoyments of the occasion. In the evening a grand ball wound up the festivities and Mat was one of the fiddlers, and, to use the words of one who was there, "fiddled all night without dropping a note or missing a drink."
The next morning before "sun up" Mat left town. He was noticed going toward Ponca landing, a mile north on the river, and from that time forward he was seen there no more, until he was returned to participate in scenes of wonderful interest and excitement. It was afterwards learned that when Mat left, he crossed the river and went down on the Dakota side to Sioux City where he gladdened with gifts of money and jewelry the heart of his painted doxy, and soon after, accompanied by her, he journeyed to Council Bluffs and there among kindred spirits scattered money right royally.
The same day Mat Miller left Ponca, a hunter made a discovery in the thicket of timber previously mentioned. It was a dead man whom he saw lying there. The head was beaten almost to jelly, the throat was cut from ear to ear and the body had as many as twenty stabs. In the pool of blood surrounding the corpse, were seen the club and knife which had been used to complete the cruel work. The club was the hickory cane which Mr. Dunn had carried.
When a murder is committed in a law-abiding community, it naturally creates far greater excitement and indignation than it would in localities where such crimes are of frequent occurrence. Here was a murdered man, who, when due investigation was made by the coroner's jury and on examination of the papers discovered on the body, was found to be Mr. Dunn whose arrival in Ponca had been expected for ten days past by those with whom he had corresponded in relation to purchasing land. That he had been murdered for his money there could be no doubt. Who had done this damnable deed? Evidence was immediately forthcomming. There were those who remembered seeing Mr. Dunn and Mat Miller leave Covington on foot together. At Jackson their presence was recalled. The homesteader's family saw them enter the thicket together, and soon afterwards saw Mat go away alone. The bloody knife was reconized as one which Mat had bought at a store in Ponca a few weeks before. Old Dan Foley cudgeled his alcoholic brain and brought out what he had seen and heard when Mat and his father had their talk in the saloon. From all this evidence, the conclusion was inevitable that Mat Miller was the red handed criminal.
Then eager enquiries were made for him. There was extreme anxiety that he be punished. Here was a man who had been struck down while comming to be one of the good citizens of the county. Anger excited every breast and the whole community burned with a desire to see that such swift, retributive justice be done to the murderer, that in all future time the memory of it would protect others from a similar violence. But where was Mat Miller?
Sheriff Dewitt hunted for him. His inquiries tracked him to Sioux City. From there he followed his trail to Council Bluffs, and there, riotously squandering the money of his victom, the sheriff found him.
On the 23rd day of July, Sheriff Dewitt brought Mat Miller in irons back to Ponca. Then the people of the county, impelled by the stern determination to see justice done without delay, assembled and took Mat from the sheriff, and before a self-organized and orderly tribunal, held in a church and presided over by a minister of the gospel, tried him for his crime.
Mat confessed his guilt. He related to the people that when resting in the thicket of timber with Mr. Dunn, the thought first came into his mind to kill him.
He said he wanted money for the girl he loved in Sioux City. If he had money, she would go away with him where they could always live together. If he did not get money she threatened to discard him. As he thus reasoned to himself he drew his knife and attacked his victom. He stabbed him repeatedly and lest those terrible wounds were not enough to kill him, cut his throat and crushed his head with a club. Then without remorse he robbed the body, and bore away the harvest of money he had acquired.
This was substantially his confession. A vote was taken by the great jury of 500 people assembled in the church, wheather the criminal should be punished by hanging. Almost unanimously that question was decided in the affirmative. Whereupon the reverend presiding officer, who had opened the investigation with prayer and had conducted the proceedings with solemnity and decorum, now sentenced the criminal to death. The prisoner was placed in a wagon and immediately taken to the western end of town for execution.
The gallows consisted of three scantlings joined at the top. The wagon was driven beneath, the rope adjusted to the prisoner's neck and the wagon was drawn from under him. His neck was not broken and hence his sufferings must have been great. At the end of thirty minutes it was announced he was dead. The body was then taken down, placed in a coffin and removed to the church where, an hour before, the trial had been held. The next morning it was buried.
Several months after the summary trial and hanging of Mat Miller there were vague rumors bearing on his case. One was that by the skill of doctors he had after his hanging been brought back to life again. Another rumor was to the effect that it was known to at least four of those who attended the burial, that instead of the body of Mat Miller it was a coffin of brick which was interred. Still another rumor was listened to and believed by some, that he had been seen on the Omaha reservation. One night, a few years after the hanging, a citizen insisted that he saw him on the streets of Ponca.
All these rumors were, however, found to be ill founded. To settle the question, a number of citizens opened Mat Miller's grave and were convinced that it was Mat himself, and not a coffin of brick, which had been buried.
Such is the history of Mat Miller's crime, trial and hanging. That he deserved the fate he received none will deny. And in view of usual court proceedings in criminal cases, can we not believe that the services of Judge Lynch are sometime necessary.
It was thought by some of the old settlers that the murder of Mr. Dunn was not the first crime of the kind which Mat Miller had been concerned in. In 1869 James Bigley and his brother, William Bigley, and W.D. Long were keeping a grocery store in Ponca. One day in the fall, James Bigley went to Sioux City to get some repairs for a threshing machine and also to pay $400 to Booge & Co. for goods for the store.
At Sioux City in the evening, Bigley was seen on the streets by several who knew him, and an old friend, Fitzgibbons, who lived in Sioux City, desired him to go home with him and stay over night but he refused.
Next morning Bigley was missing. His coat and hat were found on the steamboat Miner which was lying there, but he was never found, and from that day to this his fate has been a matter of mystery and conjecture. Among the many rumors, it was said that he was seen that evening with Matt Miller and a fellow called "Fiddler Jim," and that they killed and robbed him at a house near Perry Creek and after the murder put the coat and hat on the steamboat as a blind. Wheather there was any truth in the story it is now impossible to say. Mr. Bigley was a good citizen, upright in his dealings and beneficial to the comunity where he lived.
Copyright (C) 1998-2001 Robin Mosier
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