By David L. Bristow, Nebraska State Historical Society
Nebraskans knew Lincoln would be the new state capital before they knew where Lincoln would be.
Omaha had been the territorial capital since 1855. It had maintained its status through shady parliamentary maneuvers, bribery and, at times, even by physical intimidation. By 1867, most Nebraskans wanted to start fresh someplace else.
The Platte River was Nebraska’s big dividing line. The unbridged river was tricky to cross, and most Nebraskans lived south of it. They wanted the capital on their side of the river.
The legislature debated a bill to move the capital to a to-be-determined location within a four-county area: Seward, Lancaster or the southern half of Butler or Saunders counties.
Omaha did not have the votes to stop the bill. The best they could do was to attach some poison-pill amendments in the hope of siphoning off votes. One amendment required that the capital city would also get the state university, agricultural college, prison and insane asylum. Omahans hoped this would discourage towns not in the running for the capital to vote against the bill.
Another amendment required the capital city to be named “Lincoln” in honor of the late president — an idea sure to be unpopular in the heavily Democratic South Platte region.
But the bill passed anyway. That summer, a three-man commission toured the four-county region in search of Lincoln. They selected Lancaster, population 30. The village was far from any railroad or navigable river. Omaha, meanwhile, had a major river for steamboats, a soon-to-be-complete transcontinental railroad and was on its way to 16,000 residents by 1870.
The commissioners reasoned that Lancaster was centrally located in relation to the state’s main cities at the time: Omaha, Fremont, Columbus, Plattsmouth, Nebraska City and Pawnee City. They also thought — mistakenly, it turned out — that Lancaster’s salt deposits would prove commercially valuable.
Omahans were furious. “Nobody will ever go to Lincoln who does not go to the legislature, the lunatic asylum, the penitentiary or some of the state institutions,” said one Omaha paper. Lincoln is “destined for ultimate oblivion,” said another.
Feelings in Omaha ran so high that the state auditor conspired to have two wagonloads of furniture and books removed secretly in the middle of the night. The wagons were well out of town before daylight.
Thus, Lincoln got its name at least partly out of spite, and got the original contents of the capitol through a clandestine operation that looked like a nighttime burglary.
Visit the Nebraska State Historical Society’s website at history.nebraska.gov.