History of Linn County Iowa / From Its Earliest Settlement to the Present Time [1911]

by Luther Albertus Brewer; Barthinius L. Wick

There was nothing delicate or easy in the route assigned to the new messenger. He left Boone on Tuesday afternoon. The stage, by changing horses at regular intervals, went steadily on during the afternoon and night, and all the next day and night. Early Thursday morning it would pull into Council Bluffs, where a stop for breakfast was made. The trip was then continued to Omaha, which was reached during the forenoon. Leaving Omaha that same afternoon at four o'clock, the return trip was commenced and kept up until Boone was reached at nine o'clock Saturday morning. As Mr. Reiner had previously driven stage he was nearly always found upon the seat with the driver. Thus he was exposed the same as the driver was. Through all kinds of weather, the blizzards of winter and stifling heat of the summer, these trips were made with greatest regularity. Gradually, however, the railroad was worked farther and farther westward, and the stage driver's route shortened accordingly.

During this period of his life Mr. Reiner had many trying and sometimes exciting experiences. Although he is modest about relating them, those which he told a reporter illustrate what the messengers of that period had to contend with.

"I remember one time," said Mr. Reiner, "it was in the spring of the year and the roads were in terrible condition. From Panora to Boone there was one slough after another. We were driving along one night. I was on the box with the driver, when we came to a wide slough. There were tracks where others had driven through, but of course, we could not go across in the same place for fear of cutting through. But the slough looked all right, so we started in a new place. We had got into the center when suddenly the wheels cut through the sod and the stage sank into the water-soaked ground clear up to the axles. The four horses began floundering around in a most dangerous manner. Both the driver and I jumped from our seats down into the mud and water, and as soon as possible unhitched the horses.

"There we were, stuck in the middle of the slough with nine passengers on the inside of the coach, one of them a woman. They, of course, had been aroused by the disturbance, and now called loudly to know what they should do. There was but one thing that could be done, and that was to get out and wade to shore. This they did, one of the gentlemen carrying the woman on his shoulders. They were told that if they would follow the road for three miles they could find lodging for the night. A spring snow was on the ground, and the air was cold, but they started on their way. The driver, capturing one of the horses, jumped on it and rode for help.

"I was left there alone. In the stage coach was my express containing some very valuable property which I did not dare to leave under any circumstances. There was but one thing for me to do, and that was to wade back to the stage coach and climb in and stay there until help should arrive. This I did. I wrapped myself in my buffalo robe which was the best I could do, but it was far from comfortable.

"In the morning help came and we were pulled out of the mud hole. A fresh set of horses was hitched to the stage and we were soon at the next stop. Here we met all the passengers. They had had good beds to sleep in and warm breakfasts, so were anxious to be off. I hastily swallowed a cup of coffee, and still in my wet clothes, climbed up on the box seat, and rode all that day and the next night without a rest. This was but one of the experiences which were familiar to stage drivers and express messengers of that time."

Although during his twenty-five years of service for the American Express company Mr. Reiner never lost a penny which had been placed in his charge, it was not because he did not have his opportunities to do so.

"There was one experience," he remarked, "that I remember well, and which came as near being a hold-up as I ever had. It was the same week that an additional express messenger had been put on the route between Boone and Omaha, and our routes had been altered accordingly. The stage left Boone on a Monday afternoon and was in the neighborhood of Denison. It was a bright night and the horses were jogging along at a good gait.

"Suddenly ahead the driver saw two men crouched by the roadside. As we drew near they both sprang out into the road and began firing at us rapidly. One of the first shots struck and killed the rear horse on the left hand side. The other three animals sprang forward with such force that they fairly jerked the harness off from the animal which had been shot. They circled to the right and the wheels of the coach ran over the fallen animal. The animals continued their circling until they completely reversed the coach, then they turned and ran down the road along which we had just come. It was always believed that the highwaymen did not know of this change, and thought the stage carried express as before. But the fact was I had left Boone on Monday instead of Tuesday.

"The driver, according to the story he told me afterwards, was cussed most roundly for not stopping the team, but he insisted that the shooting the robbers had done so frightened the horses that they had become unmanageable. Although the highwaymen were far from satisfied with the explanation they made the best of a bad matter, and began to search the driver to see what they could find. He gave them his pocketbook, which, he said, contained forty dollars. That, by the way, is more money than I ever saw him have at one time, and considerably more than stage drivers usually carried. The hold-up men took the money and gave the pocketbook back to him, as it contained some papers he wished to save and which were of no value to the robbers.