In 1867 Ellsworth was the latest railroad boomtown as the Union Pacific Railway Company, Eastern Division, built the first railroad on the Kansas prairies. One thousand men were busy surveying, grading the roadbed and laying track on a line from Salina, Kan., to an isolated location west of Ellsworth.

Excited workers, merchants and adventurers were on site weeks before the town was platted on May 4, 1867. Buildings sprang up “like magic.” Many newcomers cut holes in the low banks on the north edge of the town, “and covered them with tin, hides and lumber, anything that would give them shelter for a season.”

But, just as quickly as Ellsworth’s pioneer entrepreneurs appeared, prosperity turned to misery and anguish.

Torrential rains began to fall west of Ellsworth, bringing a sudden surge of water down the already swollen Smoky Hill River on June 8. Half the town was washed away.

As the waters receded, returning to the river banks, Indians raided for horses just outside the town. In a separate incident, men were killed west of town. Consequently, a local militia of men kept watch in regular relief.

Relentless attacks continued against rail workers west of Ellsworth. Anxious for relief, Superintendent Shoemaker wired the governor on June 28 stating that, “…unless the roads were promptly protected, all the workers would be driven off and all the citizens would be forced to leave the region.”

June 28 was also the date the tracks reached Fort Harker. That same day, a beef contractor suddenly died of cholera. Several soldiers exhibited symptoms of cholera during the weekend of June 29-30.

The terrifying disease quickly spread from Fort Harker to Ellsworth. Everyone who could get away from the disease fled the area as quickly as possible. Ellsworth fell into silence. The population of 1,000 or more quickly dropped to a mere 40 citizens by the middle of July. Work came to a standstill. Long trains stood quietly on the side with no one to unload the railcars. Bodies of the dead were laid out in the open with no one to prepare them for burial.

The epidemic slowed, but continued into August. From the Manhattan Kansas Radical, the plight of Elliott (E. S.) Thompson was reported in the Aug. 17, 1867, edition. Thompson was one of hundreds of freighters drawn to the Fort Harker/Ellsworth frontier for financial gain. Freighters and their long wagon trains provided daily displays of the flair and skill of government muleskinners and bullwhackers, and when they weren’t working, Ellsworth was a teamster’s favorite resort. The frolic rolled on and the whiskey poured forth.

Thompson had two trains of wagons on the road traveling west along the Smoky Hill Trail. He was with one of his trains when he was “attacked with cholera” on Monday, Aug. 5. The wagon train was corralled at Wilson’s Creek (approximately 3 miles southwest of present- day Wilson, Kan.).

At the nearby camp of a railroad contractor by the name of Emery, J. W. Hart had earned a reputation for healing. The men had taken to calling him Doctor after he had restored a man from a cholera attack.

“Dr.” Hart was taken to Thompson the very day that Thompson had come down with debilitating cramps. Hart employed the Baumscheidt treatment, a German practice of massage and natural therapies that had served him well in his previous practice.

“At three o’clock on Tuesday morning, Thompson sprang out of bed after a few hours sleep and said, ‘Boys, I am well!’” Thompson requested to be taken back to Ellsworth to continue his recovery, but the bustling atmosphere at end-of-track Ellsworth was far from welcoming.

The busy denizens of the frontier town paid no attention to Thompson’s need. Every single room was taken up and he could not find a benefactor to take him in. He was forced to buy a tent to obtain shelter from the elements.

Hart continued Thompson’s treatment with nourishments of beef tea and brandy. The Kansas Radical gave full credit to the “nursing and faithful attention” of Mr. Hart.

Even so, Dr. Mott was called in. “Under his treatment the patient seemed to decline, and on Friday morning Thompson asked to be taken to Manhattan where he believed better shelter, hospitality, accommodations and skill could be obtained.

Thompson and Hart arrived in Manhattan Saturday, Aug. 10, 1867, but the hospitality Thompson expected proved to be a delusion.

By the time a home was secured, Thompson was greatly weakened. He passed away Saturday evening and was buried in the Manhattan Cemetery on Sunday, Aug. 11.

During the entire series of events, Mr. Hart never left the side of his patient. At Thompson’s passing, Hart gave in to his own frailties. Exposure and anxiety combined with constant and almost sleepless attention finally brought him down.

Manhattan doctors bestowed the best of attention on Mr. Hart, bringing the report several days later that the “Dr.” who nearly sacrificed his own life for that of a stranger was on the mend on The Way West.